The White Rose
by Sincerely in Blood
Summary: Laurelin was a naive Elfmaiden who lived in Mirkwood after the War of the Ring. This is her story about her love affair with Prince Legolas, and the dire consequences of that love. Mary Sue. Read at your own risk.
1. Introduction

**DEDICATED TO:** Lily of the Valley, my faithful companion and forever friend. May her canines stay sharp and her nose alert.

Author's Note: Slight Mary Sue warning, due to several chains of events. I apologize for this. I tried desperately to steer clear of Mary Sues, but it seems I got caught in the same old trap that ensnares so many fanfiction writers.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of LOTR or The Silmarillion. That is the work of J.R.R. Tolkien, a genius.

Rated PG-13 for sexuality, violence/blood, and suggestive themes.

Please read and REVIEW. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but please, no flames. Enjoy!

Chapter 1  
  
_Have you ever wondered what might have happened if Legolas did not go to the Undying Land of the Elves with Gimli? This is a might-have-been, although it ends in tragedy for many._  
  
Sun glistened over the tops of the trees. Laurelin stretched her eyes across the horizon, taking in the sights of her Mirkwood home. It had been a long time since she had been able to feel totally safe in the forest, for evil spirits had prevailed only a couple hundred years before. Now, Mirkwood was a glorious kingdom once again, multiplying and prospering under the rule of Elven-king Thranduil. A violent Elf-lord in earlier Ages, his strength had dwindled and he could no longer command an army of Elves nor could he ever leave Mirkwood again.  
  
His heir to the throne, Prince Legolas, had just returned from a year-and-a- half long adventure and had ended up helping destroy the Dark Lord Sauron. Legolas had been home for about two hundred years, but Laurelin knew he was bored and wanted to do something more with his life.  
  
Laurelin sighed silently within her soul. She loved Legolas with all her heart, and he loved her, but she was just the daughter of the King's Chief Body Guard, nothing more. She was of little importance to the King in the whole throng of Elf-lords and warriors. It was true Thranduil wanted Legolas to get married, but to someone of a little more royal authority, and Laurelin had no idea who that might be. It wasn't that Laurelin couldn't marry Legolas, she certainly was able to. It was that the Elves of the kingdom would be unsure of a daughter of a bodyguard ruling as their Princess. Legolas had suggested waiting on telling his father, but Laurelin feared that soon it would be too late. "Well, it isn't like the King hates you," she thought. "He actually loves you a lot, and has blessed you with many things, like Galada for example." She stroked the neck of the white mare she was sitting on. The horse shifted its weight underneath her in reply.  
  
"Life is so unfair sometimes," she uttered quietly to herself. Laurelin sat in silence for a while, lost in her thoughts. Soon she realized that if she did not get home, someone was bound to recognize her absence and send out a search party. Checking her horse, she started down the beaten path that led out of the woods.


	2. The Proposal

Chapter 2  
  
"How was your ride, my Lady?" asked the head groom of the stables. Laurelin swung down from atop Galada, careful not to get her gown caught in the saddle.  
  
"Fine, thank you. It was a very nice day for a ride." Laurelin handed the reins to the groom. He bowed, and led Galada inside the stables.  
  
Laurelin went out into the palace's courtyard, which was flecked with Elves wandering around. Scanning the place for a familiar face, she finally found one.  
  
"Totholain!" she cried, waving her arms frantically. The Elf-lord looked up from the piece of paper he was holding and smiled weakly. Laurelin ran over to him and embraced him in a hug. "I didn't know you were coming home so soon!" Laurelin said, trying to control her happiness. "I have missed you so much!"  
  
"And you too, my little one," he said. "What have you been up to?" Laurelin quickly filled him in on the latest details. As she told him her account, she noticed that the usually sparkling general looked extremely tired.  
  
His ageless face, which always used to carry joy, was now laden with sorrow and grief. His dark-grey eyes seemed to tell a story of their own, a story Laurelin was not sure she would like to know of. When she finished her tale, Totholain looked even more tired, like the news was an extra burden.  
  
"I am glad that you have been so happy," Totholain said. "We need more love around this place."  
  
"Totholain, what is it?" Laurelin asked. She hated to see the Elf in such a state as this. It was not like him. Totholain shrugged, and shook his dark- haired head.  
  
"Nothing. You need not worry sweetheart. Just the day in the life of a General, I guess."  
  
Laurelin knew he was not telling her the truth, but she decided not to press the issue further. Totholain obviously did not want to talk about it, and she did not want to get him even more upset.  
  
"So why are you back here so early? Weren't you out patrolling the southern part of our woods?"  
  
"Aye, yes, I was, for a short while. But my men got weary of the task, and there seemed to be no danger present. So we came back, earlier than expected, but there is no trouble at hand."  
  
"Well, that is good," Laurelin commented. They continued to talk about the forests and the gardens of Mirkwood when an Elf servant interrupted them.  
  
"Excuse me, my Lady, but King Thranduil requests your presence in his halls." Laurelin nodded to him. "Tell him I will be there." The servant bowed, and raced back through the palace gates.  
  
Laurelin turned to Totholain. "Sorry, my Lord, but I must take your leave. I am glad you are back." She placed a kiss on his cheek as he gave her another hug. "I am also glad to be back," he said. Laurelin smiled fondly at the Elf as he left, remembering how he had taught her archery when she was a child.  
  
"I wish I could sometime go back to those days," she thought. "But you can't live in the past. So I must make the best out of my future."  
  
Flinging her long blond hair over her shoulder, she made her way up to the castle gates.  
  
****  
  
"My daughter, please, come in," Thranduil said. Laurelin stepped into the halls of the Elven-king. No matter how many times she entered that room, she was still marveled at its beauty. A long red rug wound itself up to two thrones, Thranduil's and Legolas's. Gold plates decorated the walls, and bright sunshine peeked through the open windows. The two royal Elves sat in silence in their chairs, staring at her.  
  
Legolas rested his blue eyes on Laurelin. She could feel her face burning.  
  
Remembering her manners, though, she bowed low to both of the Elves and said,  
  
"My Lords, I am at your most humble service." Thranduil dismissed her actions with a wave of his hand. He beckoned for Laurelin to come forward. She could feel Legolas's gaze travel through her body and pierce her heart. "What is it about him?" she wondered. "It's not like I have never had a grown male Elf gaze at me." But for some reason, Legolas was just. different. He was remarkably handsome, but that was not unusual for Elves. She could not put her finger on it, but she knew that they were meant to be together. She just knew it. Thranduil smiled at Laurelin as she came up to him and bowed again.  
  
"My Lord, I was requested to be in your presence. How may I be of help to you and your son?" Thranduil chuckled deeply. "At least he is not depressed like Totholain," she thought. "I was beginning to believe no one was happy around here."  
  
"My daughter, your father, Legolas, Totholain, and I have had a very serious discussion. Legolas proposed the idea of marriage, which I supported. But then he told me that he wanted to choose his wife. I told him it was acceptable, just as long as she was an Elf and of Mirkwood kind. Imagine my surprise when he suggested of all people. you." Laurelin winced. Thranduil did not sound happy. "So, this is what I did."  
  
Thranduil retrieved a white velvet box from within his tunic. He opened it and showed Laurelin what was inside. She gasped. In the box was a beautiful ring made of mithril and diamonds. It reflected the light of the room into hundreds of thousands of tiny particles. "I could not be happier that you would be my daughter-in-law." Laurelin stood, stunned and motionless. She was to get married to Legolas. The one dream that she never thought would come true was going to right now, at this very moment.  
  
All she managed to croak was, " What did Totholain think about it?" Thranduil averted his eyes and looked at his son. Legolas cleared his throat. "He was opposed to it for some weird reason. I suggested seeking his council, since he is the wisest Elf in Mirkwood. He did not like the idea of me marrying you, or getting married at all. He also hinted that I should stay here and never leave Mirkwood. Very strange, if I can say so myself."  
  
Laurelin wondered what was wrong with Totholain. Since when did he have a say in her future? It wasn't like she was marrying an Orc. This was Legolas, son of Thranduil and one of the bravest Elves ever. She made a mental note to talk to Totholain later. "Even though he did not like the idea, he gave is approval and prayed that we would have unlimited happiness." Laurelin nodded. At least he did not restrict their wedding.  
  
"So, do you accept?" Thranduil asked the daughter of his Chief Guard. Laurelin saw her life flash before her eyes. Now, she would have a royal title, a title of a Princess. She would be married to the most gorgeous Elf ever, and get to savor his unconditional love. How could she say no? This was what she wanted more than the whole world. She gazed deeply into Legolas's eyes, and saw only devotion and trust. She took a deep breath. "I accept." 


	3. The Secret That Kills

Chapter 3  
  
Laurelin couldn't remember ever being more delighted in her entire life. She sighed happily and stepped out on her balcony to her bedroom. She glanced down at the garden beneath her. White roses bloomed to their fullest extent, giving off a radiance of light that would be blinding to human eyes. The moon shone clearly through the darkness, casting soft rays on her fair face.  
  
She could not believe her luck. "And here I thought Thranduil would think me too common to rule," she said to herself. "I guess Elf-kings can just surprise you at the greatest of times!" Unable to control her merriment any longer, she decided she had to tell someone her wonderful news. "Retkia and Lizule!" she said, thinking of her two best friends. "I bet they would love to know!" The three friends had been together ever since they had been born. Retkia was the eldest, followed by Laurelin and Lizule. They all were known for their intelligence, especially Retkia, who was very smart and wanted to become a master of Elvish-lore. Laurelin could not wait to tell her friends. She started to leave the balcony, when a soft voice stopped her.  
  
"Don't leave just yet, my bride to be." Laurelin's face lit up. She turned around to see Legolas behind her, holding a single white rose. He was wearing a blue tunic, with a long grey cloak. On his head was a sliver crown, and he glowed like a spark of pearl and white. He gave the rose to Laurelin, smiling all the while. She gently stroked the petals. "This rose stands for a promise I wish to make to you," Legolas said. Laurelin felt her throat clog up with tears.  
  
"Yes?" she whispered. Legolas scanned the horizon, as if looking for something. She followed his gaze, but could not see anything.  
  
"What is it?" Legolas motioned for her to come to the edge of the balcony. He pointed down at the garden of white roses. "I promise that I will love you for the rest of eternity. The rose you are holding stands for this. If something happens to me, the rose will wither and fade." Legolas took a breath. "This world is more dangerous than you might think. It is risky to love someone too much, especially when they might be going off to war."  
  
Laurelin gasped. "NO!" she cried. "You can't go! I won't let you!"  
  
"Shhhh. Calm down. There is no talk of war at all. And even if there was a war, I doubt I would be going. Totholain would probably be in charge, with no use for me." He gently stroked her hair. "It'll work out in the end. If there is an end."  
  
Laurelin closed her eyes and took a couple deep breaths. When she opened them, he was still standing over her, watching her attentively. Moonlight reflected off his face, making him look like a god.  
  
She slowly raised her right hand with her left hand holding the flower. She ran her hand along his crown, and then touched his face, making sure he was real, that all of this was real. It was. He caught her hand and then kissed her. She had no idea how long they were out there, but it felt like heaven. He kissed her for the longest time, tenderly holding her and comforting her. She wondered if there could be any more bliss in her life.  
  
Totholain, who had been fixing the curtains in his window, saw the two young lovers out on the balcony in a lip lock. His eyes clouded, but he blinked the unwanted tears away. He had never cried in the 30,000 years of his life and he wasn't going to start now. He hastily shut the curtains and went to bed, his heart in the gutter, for he knew of the two Elves' fate.  
****  
  
The sun rose early, setting morning light that spread throughout Mirkwood. Laurelin woke to sunshine streaming through her window. She groaned and rolled over. "Why, oh why, did the sun have to ruin my dream?" she thought. Stuffing her head under a pillow, she tried to get back to her reverie. It didn't work. Sighing, she tumbled out of bed and put on her favorite gown, a light blue one. She did her hair in the traditional Elvish fashion as she pondered about her dream.  
  
"It was such a good dream! All of the little Elf children and Legolas and I sitting on our thrones, looking like gods and goddesses. We didn't have to worry about moody generals or wars. It was so perfect." She yanked a not out of her hair and laid her brush back down on the table.  
  
She studied herself in the mirror. Blue eyes, blond hair, fair complexion, and high cheekbones. Laurelin knew she wasn't ugly, but did she deserve someone so great and gorgeous as Legolas? Elves like him didn't come around every day. He was smart, funny, brave, loving, perilous, and a deadly assassin to his enemies. What more could she want? "I would never imagine that he would pick ME," she said to herself.  
  
A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. "Excuse me, My Lady, but I believe someone is here to see you," her maid, Saris, said.  
  
"Show them in," Laurelin said.  
  
"Yes, Miss."  
  
Totholain strode in and stopped at her door. Laurelin cautiously turned around to meet his gaze. He looked terribly upset.  
  
"My Lord, what is wrong?" Totholain swallowed hard. How could he tell her? It would break her heart, and she would probably die of grief at the helplessness of the situation. But if he didn't tell her, her fate will be the same. He thought back to what Elbereth had told him so very long ago, what she had told him about Laurelin. He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of those memories. He was Thranduil's General. That was his identity. Totholain sighed. There was no way he could tell her.  
  
Totholain put on a fake smile and said,  
  
"Nothing, my little one. I just wanted to congratulate you on your marriage to Prince Legolas. You will both make a fine couple."  
  
Laurelin knew her friend was lying. His eyes were giving him away. Totholain had always protected Laurelin, for he had assisted raising her when she was a child, but now he was lying to her? The Elf-lord had always been honest with her, even if he knew it would hurt her feelings. He had never lied to her in her entire life. Laurelin felt her heart drop. His face was set as stone, but his eyes. she had never seen them like that. His negative body energy was slowly suffocating her.  
  
"Totholain," she gasped. "Why do you lie?" The Elf-lord's eyes flashed a blazing red. Laurelin started to shake uncontrollably as her image blurred. She sat down to steady herself.  
  
"Totholain, please. you have always been a father to me. Why are you so distraught?" Totholain had backed himself into a corner. He didn't want to physically hurt her. but he had to.  
  
He tried to tell her, but could not open his mouth. "Oh Elbereth, do not do this to me, not yet!" he shouted in his mind. The Valar goddess was striking him dumb, so that he couldn't speak. Totholain gripped the door handle so hard that he broke it. His face went livid.  
  
Laurelin screamed and fell over her vanity. "Totholain, what are you doing?" she cried. The Elf-lord was glowing.  
  
The light from him hit her so hard that she collapsed on the floor. Totholain let out a strangled cry, but Elbereth held him. He stood there for several minutes until he was released. He then ran to the maiden and picked her up in his arms.  
  
Saris, who had gone for a walk in the garden, had heard the fight and had run up to Laurelin's chambers. She came in to see Totholain holding the unconscious Elf and attempting to wake her from her spell. Totholain motioned for her to get the King and the Prince. Saris nodded, and bolted towards the palace.  
  
"Oh, Laurelin, I am so sorry. I never meant to do that to you," he whispered. The only response he got was her shallow breathing. 


	4. A Little Bit of Truth

Chapter 4  
  
"Laurelin, please, wake up." Legolas dabbed her pale face with a cloth. It had been two days since the altercation between Totholain and Laurelin. She had steadily improved, but had not wakened from her dreams. Every so often she groaned and called out in a clear voice, "Noro lim, Asfaloth!" Legolas did not understand why she was saying that. Asfaloth was Glorfindel's horse, but Laurelin had never met Asfaloth or Glorfindel. It confused the young Prince.  
  
He sighed and patted her hand, praying to the Valar that she would come out of it. He had tried every spell and enchantment that he knew, but he could not get her out of her reveries. Totholain had been working with her until Thranduil drug him downstairs to have a word with him. Legolas could tell his father was very angry. Laurelin's father was not at Mirkwood, for he was out with some Elves on their Annual hunting trip. When he would be called back from it, he would not be happy.  
  
"Why did he do this to you?" Legolas said to the sleeping Elf. Legolas understood that if Elf-lords got enraged, they could kill or knock down anything in their path. That had not happened very often, however, for Elves are not quick to anger. "But why did he hurt you?" Legolas thought. Totholain was one of the gentlest Elves out of Mirkwood, and he loved Laurelin more than his own self. It just did not make sense.  
  
The clouds from outside started to cover the sun, and it grew dark. Legolas guessed that the Elf-lords were really at each other's throats. Sighing, he placed a light kiss upon her lips, and then went downstairs. He said a mental thanks to Eru that he was not an Elf-lord. yet.  
  
****  
  
"What happened?" was the first thing out of Thranduil's mouth when he took the Elvish general to the wine cellar downstairs. The King wanted peace and quiet so he could talk to the other Elf-lord one on one.  
  
Totholain's eyes glazed. "She took me. She was trying to stop me from saying something, something that I did not want to say, but felt that I had to. She hurt Laurelin through me so that I could not and will not ever be able to tell her again. If I do try, I will die."  
  
Thranduil rubbed his chin. "Elbereth got you that time. I thought you were wise enough and powerful enough to stay out of her path. Totholain, you can't change fate, no matter what. You may know the future of some, but you can NEVER change it."  
  
Totholain went white. "How did you know? I never told you."  
  
~ Please don't let Thranduil know who I am. Please don't let Thranduil know what I am ~  
  
"You didn't have to. I read it off you. Just because you are the wisest doesn't make you the hardest Elf to read. I have not an idea what Laurelin and Legolas's fate is, but I can comprehend it is not a good one. It makes me sad, but we can't do anything."  
  
"We can go to Elrond. He is the Lord of understanding. I bet you that he can get the Valar to change their act of plans." Thranduil shook his head.  
  
"No," he said bluntly. " I can't leave, Mirkwood, remember? And if you go to him, Elbereth will make sure you do not get your message known. Elrond is very dangerous to her, for he does have the power to override the Maiar. and even sometimes the Valar. But that has never happened, and probably won't. The Valar write down everyone's fate before they are born, and make sure that the sequence of events goes in that order. It was the first time an Elf has ever tried to alter it, and Elbereth stopped you the only way she could."  
  
Totholain tried to think of other solutions. They could go to Valinor. but the Valar, especially Manwe, would not receive them, for their time was not yet accounted for when they could leave.  
  
" So you are saying that we have to sit back and watch this all happen?"  
  
" Yes, my general, we do."  
  
Totholain closed his eyes. He could feel anger bottling up inside him. Outside, the sky darkened and the horses snorted in terror. Can't save her. can't save her. can't save her. "NO!" he thundered.  
  
~ I was not put here by Elbereth to watch her die ~  
  
Thranduil jumped back and withdrew his sword, terror flashing in his eyes. "Totholain, it is okay. They have much more time left till their fate is played into action, I am sure of it. Just trust me. I may not be that wise, but I do have a clue. We just have to love each other always, because we never exactly know when our time will come."  
  
Totholain looked back and forth, panic-stricken. He had failed. He could do nothing. His power could not save her. She was going to die. and so was Legolas.  
  
****  
  
~ ** "Totholain!" Laurelin cried. She ran over to him and tugged on his tunic. "I hit a bull's eye!" She proudly pointed at where her arrow had hit its mark. Totholain smiled and picked the Elf-child up, cradling her in his arms. "You are getting good, my pretty one. Soon you will be able to beat your father." Laurelin laughed, and snuggled into his arms. "You have always been my father, and always will be." **~  
  
Laurelin opened her eyes to see Legolas sitting in a chair beside her bed. He was asleep, breathing in and out, shuddering every so often. "What happened?" she thought. She tried to concentrate, but her brain was fuzzy. "Where is Totholain? I was just talking to him." Then, she remembered. The light, and the sickening feeling of Totholain's eyes and his despair. Laurelin groaned. "Totholain. Totholian!" she whimpered.  
  
Legolas awoke with a jolt and came over to her bed. Sitting down, he took her hand in his. She instantly felt safe. "Legolas," she whispered. "You are here."  
  
"Of course, my Lady. I have been here for three days. I hope you have had a good rest, sleeping beauty."  
  
"You shouldn't have stayed so long. Totholain could have been here. Or Retkia."  
  
"You are my fiancée, my Lady. I could never leave you." Laurelin gripped his hand tightly, and willed herself never to let go. "Please, don't let Totholain get hurt. He is like my father."  
  
"But my Lady, you already have a father."  
  
"He didn't even say good-bye to me when he left. He has never loved me. Totholain practically raised me, when my mother died. He was the only one who treated me like a daughter when I was a child. Totholain was the only one who cared." Laurelin paused, she was getting tired. " I love him, Legolas, even though he did hurt me, it was not his fault. He tried to save me, but he will never be able to again."  
  
"Laurelin, what are you speaking of?"  
  
"I do not rightly know. I think it is probably the medicine messing with my mind." She didn't know. All she knew is that someone was coming, someone who was going to tear Totholain and Legolas away from her.  
  
"Legolas, I love you." She looked over at the rose, which had been on her vanity. It was still in its vase, and was as pretty as ever. Legolas kissed her hand.  
  
"I love you too." 


	5. Before the Dance

Chapter 5  
  
"Whoa, boy, steady now," Totholain said. His silver stallion slid to a halt and snorted. Totholian had decided to go for a ride on Gloried, for he felt that if he stayed in the palace he might suffocate. He had not been in to see Laurelin yet, but he knew that he owed her an explanation for his actions at the very least. He just didn't know how to present himself. Everyone had been crowding around her room ever since she woke up. Legolas was always in there, and Thranduil visited her often.  
  
Laurelin's father was coming home tonight, and Totholian cringed at the thought. He would not be happy that he was called home from a hunting trip just because his daughter hit head on with an Elf-lord.  
  
Totholain sighed. Thranduil had understood, and so had Legolas, once things were explained to him. But the rest of the Elven community was now wary of the Elf. "He could have killed her!" they whispered when Totholain walked by. "Why did he do it?" they pondered.  
  
Totholian could take their stares and gossip, but only for so long. Now, he was out in the wilderness, with only his beloved horse to keep him company. At least the air wasn't as tense.  
  
"Well, Gloried, what should I do?" he said, not expecting an answer. The horse looked around, and nodded his head towards a field, full of logs and rock walls. "You want to practice your jumping skills today, don't you? We haven't done that in a while. That does sound good." Totholain clucked to the horse, and they galloped towards a small log. Gloried, though, had other plans. He raced towards the highest fence, a red wall made of old, decaying stone. Without anything more than a neigh of triumph, he jumped the obstacle cleanly, with room to spare. Totholain smiled. He hadn't felt so at ease in a long time.  
  
****  
  
"I've been stuck in this bedroom for three weeks! It would be nice to get out, you know?" Laurelin inquired of the guard who had stopped her from leaving her chambers. He stood firmly in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest.  
  
"My Lady, you are not allowed to leave so soon! You are to stay here for at least another week. It is against the wishes of the Healer and Thranduil to even be out of bed."  
  
Laurelin's blood boiled. How dare this guard tell her she couldn't go at least for a stroll in the gardens? But as she looked at him, she knew it was not wise to argue. He was tall, broad, and could probably pick her up and put her back in her room faster than she could say, "Valar." Laurelin groaned. "Well, if you are going to be so stubborn, could you at least send Saris up here?" The guard nodded.  
  
He waved a warning finger. "Don't go anywhere, young Lady." He walked down the hall and went downstairs. Laurelin leaned against the wall, fuming.  
  
All she wanted was to get out of the stuffy room. It reminded her too much of the disturbing thoughts she had when she had been unconscious and half- awake. She couldn't remember the thoughts any more, but she could recall that they were troubling. She missed Galada, the forests, and the palace courtyard.  
  
Above all, she missed her archery lessons she used to have with Totholain. She didn't want to admit it, but she was upset that the general had not come to see her yet. "An apology is all I want. He wasn't at fault, but he does need to learn how to control his temper. I could've gotten killed," she thought.  
  
After a long time of standing out in the halls, she decided to go back into her room and wait for Saris. What more could she do?  
*****  
  
"Father, I need to speak with you." Thranduil looked up and saw his son standing in the doorway to his spacious bedroom. "Come, sit down," he motioned with a wave of his hand. Legolas took a seat in a comfy red-oak chair.  
  
"Father, I was wondering when you were going to announce the wedding."  
  
Thranduil sighed. " I was going to do it this week, but with Laurelin's. um. situation, I obviously cannot. I have decided to tell everyone in four weeks, on this very day, Wednesday."  
  
"I do not mean to be too forward, but could we shorten the length of time?"  
  
"The townspeople are trying to get over the fact that the daughter of my Chief Guard was almost fatally wounded by my general. They cannot take too much excitement at once."  
  
" I understand that, really I do. It's just. I want to get married as soon as possible. I love her a lot."  
  
Thranduil laughed. " A little too eager there, my boy! I can guess what is on your mind. But, I'll make you a deal. You stop pestering me about it, and I will do everything in my power to relay the information as soon as possible."  
  
"Thank you Father. You have no idea how much this means to me."  
  
Legolas stood up to leave. "I swear that I will leave you alone from now on."  
  
Thranduil smiled. "Good-night, my son."  
  
"Good-night, Father."  
****  
  
"How much longer, Legolas?" Laurelin inquired of him. The Elf Prince stared out her bedroom window.  
  
"I talked to my father. He is going to try to plan the proclamation as soon as possible."  
  
"So there is no definite time?"  
  
"No, I am sorry. I cannot give you a date."  
  
Laurelin groaned. Fluffing her pillow, she settled deep into her bed. "I have been in here for 23 days. 23 days, Legolas! I have been counting for like, ever. And I feel great, too!"  
  
"Yes, I know you feel fine. But we do not want to take any chances, now do we? I know I certainly don't."  
  
"Okay, Mr. Tough. If it makes you happy, I guess I can endure another week. But that's it! If I can't get out, I think I am going to go crazy!"  
  
"You already are."  
  
"Be quiet! You are ruining the moment."  
  
Legolas grinned. "That's not such a nice thing to say to someone who got you a rose, now is it?"  
  
"Oh, well. I guess not," she said sarcastically. " Sorry. But still, here you are, laughing at my situation! It is not at all funny!"  
  
"I didn't say it was. All I said is you better be nice to me. Or else."  
  
"Or else what?"  
  
"Or else, I'll have to go on an abstinence vow. after the wedding!"  
  
Laurelin threw a pillow at him. "Oh, you are so hilarious. Too bad. I really wanted some little ones around the house to help me torture you."  
  
Legolas chucked the pillow right back at her. "No, I think not. Who would want to hang out in a drab old palace when they can go hunting with dad?"  
  
"Funny," she said as Legolas came over and sat next to her." Thanks for trying to cheer me up. I think it made me feel a tiny bit better."  
  
"Allow me to make you feel even more better." He wrapped her in an embrace and kissed her. She tried to put all of her love and appreciation for him in the kiss. She wanted him to know how much she really did care for him. When they pulled away, Legolas eyes were full understanding of her intent. He stroked her cheek tenderly  
  
"Wow. Next time, you make sure you kiss me like that again!" he said jokingly. Laurelin smiled.  
  
I'll try."  
  
****  
  
Laurelin dressed happily into a green gown and attempted to comb all the tangles out of her hair. Tonight, for the first time in five weeks, she was allowed out of her chambers. Thranduil was holding a huge dinner party to announce the engagement between his son and Laurelin. She wanted to make sure that she looked her best.  
  
She was rummaging around for her silver belt when a soft knock on her door interrupted her. "Yes?" she said, not even glancing up from the trunk she was searching through. "What do you wish?"  
  
"A brief word with you, my Lady, if that is okay." Laurelin froze. Totholain was standing in her room, seeming rather uncomfortable. He wore a silver tunic and little white stars crowned his head. At his belt was an Elvish blade, Glamdrigul, mate to Glamdring. He cleared his throat.  
  
" I wanted to, um, apologize for my rather reckless behavior."  
  
"Apology accepted Totholain," she said hesitantly. "I don't think I could hold a grudge against you even if I did want to. But please, never, ever again do that sort of thing to me. It was a horrible experience, if I may say so."  
  
Totholain's mind clouded. Here he was, apologizing for the actions of Elbereth, not himself. He would have NEVER done that to Laurelin. It made him sad to know that she thought that he was actually capable of doing that to her.  
  
" I am truly sorry. I was just upset with how my work was going as a general." ~ Liar, his brain hissed. You dirty rotten liar. You know that your work as a general is fine. It's who you are that hurt her. How can you lie to her? ~  
  
" I understand. But if you don't mind me saying, I would like if you would take your leave. I have to finish getting ready for the party. You are coming, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes my Lady, I am," Totholain managed to say.  
  
"Good. I will see you there."  
  
****  
  
Laurelin stepped into the bright lights of the palace ballroom. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the walls were dotted with paintings. The floor was a type of bronze that was no longer available to Elven-kind. At the back of the ballroom were two long, white tables. That was where the feast was to be held before the dancing. Laurelin made her way over to her seat, her footfalls making hardly a sound. She had wanted to arrive early, so she could sit next to Legolas.  
  
She was almost there when a painting of two Elves caught her eye. She looked closer. The one Elf, who was sitting down, was dressed in a green robe. He held a silver staff, and a crown was on his forehead. "That's Thranduil," she thought. The second Elf was a female. She had on a yellow gown, and stood behind Thranduil, her hand resting on his shoulder. Her hair was long, and wound down to her waist. She wore a very somber expression, but at the same time, she was beautiful. Laurelin pondered about who she was and why she looked so familiar. Then, it hit her.  
  
"By the Valar, that is Legolas's mother!" she thought. Laurelin had never met her, for she had gone to Valinor long before she was born. Legolas never talked about her, but it was obvious that he missed her a lot.  
  
"She was so pretty," thought Laurelin. "I wonder why she left?"  
  
"She was bored with life here. Even Legolas could not convince her to stay."  
  
Laurelin turned around. Totholain was sitting at the table, watching her. Ignoring the fact that he had slipped in unnoticed and had read her mind, she said, "How old was Legolas when she left?"  
  
"40, from what I can recall. He was young and naïve. He did not expect his mother to go so soon. But she was summoned, so she went."  
  
" I could never imagine abandoning my child. How could she do such a thing?"  
  
Totholain shrugged. "Being immortal has its disadvantages. She was so upset with the wars, and the killing, and the hatred, she could not take it. Thranduil told her to leave before it was too late. She wanted to take Legolas, but his time had not come yet to sail over the sea. So, she went alone."  
  
"Did you approve of this?"  
  
" It was her destiny, my little one. At the time I accepted fate. Now, I am not so sure."  
  
Laurelin had no idea about what he was talking about. "Totholain, I do not understand what you mean by that."  
  
"All in good time."  
  
Laurelin ran her hand along the canvass, thinking about her own mother. "She was so kind," Laurelin murmured quietly to herself, so even Totholain could not hear. "How could such a thing happen to her?"  
  
*~ The cool breeze hit Laurelin's face hard as she rode her pony, Snow- wind, through the forest. "Mother!' she called out, in a clear voice. "Mother, where are you?" Panic rose up inside her. The little girl stopped her pony and listened. All she heard was silence. No birds, no insects, nothing. It was too eerie.  
  
"Oh, why did I ever agree to go on a trail ride with her?" Laurelin wailed. She was lost, confused, scared, and alone. Worst of all, she had no weapons. She looked through the trees, trying to see if she could find the path home. A sudden growl from behind her made her blood run cold. She turned around in the saddle to see an Orc coming straight at her, sword in hand. Laurelin screamed and kicked Snow-wind into a gallop. The tiny mare took off, extremely frightened. Laurelin gripped Snow-wind's mane, praying that someone, anyone, would rescue them. She leaned forward, urging the pony to go faster. They slowly drew away from the Orc, and soon, it was far behind, engulfed by the woods.  
  
They kept on running, till the sun went down and the moon rose. Laurelin drew the pony up to a walk. The moon gave off hardly any light, and soon all was dark. Laurelin dismounted Snow-wind and patted her flank. "We must find our way home," she told the pony. Snow-wind shook her head. The pony was just as scared, but she seemed to know it was useless to try in the shadow. "Mom!" Laurelin cried. "Mom, please, somebody, help me!"  
  
Her voice rang out and echoed all the way back to the palace. Totholain had been out in the gardens, thinking, when he heard her cry. He knew that voice. It was Laurelin! He ran towards the stables, readied his horse, and took off towards the gloom.  
  
Laurelin sat down on a tree stump and put her head in her lap. She couldn't do anything. Snow-wind was right. They had to stay in one spot till the morning. She tried to get some sleep, but the constant howling of the wind intervened her attempts. She sat up and stared wide-eyed into the fog, searching for her mom. Finally, after many hours, her salvation came.  
  
A gray horse came bursting through the bliss with her mom astride it. "Mom!" Laurelin cried. She bolted towards the horse and clung to its neck. "I was so scared!"  
  
Her mom, Laimia, leaned down and picked the child up. "Shhhh, sweetheart, it is okay. Mom is here now. It is going to be okay." Laurelin closed her eyes and rested her head on her shoulder.  
  
"Mom, I am ready to go home." Laimia smiled, and turned the horse around.  
  
She cried out with pain as an Orc arrow hit her square in the shoulder. Laurelin screeched and lunged for her mom, who was sliding to the ground. The mighty gray horse reared up as an arrow pierced him in the side. Laurelin fell to the dirt and withdrew her mom's sword from its sheath. The Orc let out a laugh of mockery and started towards her. Laurelin closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle. By the will of Elbereth, she got one.  
  
Totholain rode in through the trees, and with one clean sweep of his sword, he wiped the Orc's head off its shoulders. Laurelin opened her eyes to see him bent over her mom, attempting to wake her up. Laurelin felt light-headed as she made her way over to Laimia and Totholain.  
  
"Totholain? Will she be okay?" Totholain looked up at the Elf-girl. He knew he could not say that she was alive.  
  
"Totholain? Is she okay?" Laurelin repeated.  
  
"No. She is dead." Laurelin felt her eyes fill up with tears.  
  
"It is my fault. I was so loud. All I was concerned with was getting home and not being quiet."  
  
"No, of course not. It could not be helped. You were scared. Stuff like this just happens, I guess." He laid a hand on her shoulder. Sighing, he picked Laimia up gingerly and put her on his horse.  
  
"She was the only one who ever loved me." Totholain turned around.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Daddy never wanted me. He always wanted a boy. Said I was useless. Now, I have no family. He is going to say it is my fault. He will hate me."  
  
Totholain bent down and wiped away Laurelin's tears. "I'll make sure that he never harms you. I love you, and so do Thranduil and everyone else."  
  
Laurelin smiled faintly. "Will she be with the angels in heaven?"  
  
Totholain nodded. "You can bet she is as happy as she will ever get." ~*  
  
Laurelin felt her throat clog up. She had believed in angels and heaven then, but now, she knew that there was no such thing. Heaven was made up, and once you lose someone, no matter what the cause, it left a huge dent on your heart. She had been too young to understand, to really understand her mother's death. It had not hurt her then they way death hurt her now. Laurelin let out a wail of distress and bowed her head.  
  
Totholain got up from his seat and came over to her. He raised her chin and looked into her eyes. "Your mother is always with you," he said softly. "She loves you even now, though you cannot see it."  
  
Laurelin smiled through her tears. "Hannon lee, my father." Totholain gave her a hug. Laurelin felt all of her fears wash away. But there was one, nagging thought in her mind. As she was in his arms, she could feel that something bad was going to happen to him. Much sooner than she would be prepared for. "No," she told herself. "Nothing will happen." She drew away from his embrace. Totholain smiled down at her after their hug. He had to act like nothing was the matter, that he had not read her thoughts.  
  
"Allow me to escort you to your seat?" he said, offering her his arm.  
  
"Certainly." He led her over to her chair and sat her down. He then sat down in the chair across from her. It was just in time. Guests of the King started to flood in, and took their seats accordingly. Laurelin was amazed at the amount of Elves that had come. She unexpectedly felt nervous.  
  
"What if they don't think I am fit to be a Princess? What if they like me?"  
  
Laurelin nodded to a couple as they passed by. "Oh, why doesn't Legolas get here with haste?"  
  
"Laurelin!" a warm, female voice rang out. Retkia was running towards her, her face all glowing. "I have not seen you since your.um.accident." she said, casting a glance at Totholain. Laurelin swallowed hard.  
  
"Me neither. How are you?" she said, trying to cover up the awkward statement. Fortunately, Retkia launched into a full description of her love life with her new husband, Gabriel, and Laurelin listened attentively. It was when Legolas arrived in the ballroom that she tuned her loyal friend out.  
  
He was dressed in a blue shirt and had on brown trousers. His crown was not the ordinary one he usually wore, but instead, it was the crown his father had bore in the painting. His ageless face was so. perfect and angelic she could not stop herself from staring. Retkia finally caught on to her gaze and laughed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bore you. Go over there and say hi to him! Oh come on, don't be shy!" It was then Laurelin realized Retkia had not a clue that she was marrying the Prince of Mirkwood. She probably thought Laurelin was just dreaming about him, nothing more.  
  
"Will tonight's news be interesting to her," Laurelin thought, as she went over to Legolas. When he saw her, he grinned broadly. "You look beautiful," he said, taking her hand in his. Laurelin blushed. "Thank you." Legolas would have kissed her, if Thranduil had not walked into the room. The whole place started to buzz with excitement as everyone went over to worship him. Thranduil chuckled and waved them away with his hand. He did not like being idolized by his subjects.  
  
"My fellow citizens, welcome to the party!" he thundered. Legolas took Laurelin back to her seat and sat beside her. Thranduil slowly made his way to his chair. When he sat down, glasses of wine were brought in. All of the Elves drank to the health of the King. After the wine, there was bread, along with cheese and ham. Laurelin enjoyed all of it. When they were all finished supping, Thranduil stood up.  
  
"My most humblest people, I have an announcement to make." He bellowed. Instant silence. You could have heard a pin drop.  
  
"I have been under the understanding that we need some feminine influence in this palace. So, with those suggestions, I proudly announce the engagement between my son, Prince Legolas, and Lady Laurelin."  
  
Laurelin held her breath, expecting an onslaught.  
  
She got the exact opposite. Everyone stood up and started to clap. Voices of congratulation rang out. Retkia beamed from he seat next to Totholain and Gabriel. Laurelin breathed a huge sigh of relief. She could now halfway relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. 


	6. The Rose Gains Meaning

Chapter 6  
  
Laurelin looked over at her friend, Lizule. She seemed to be the only person not dancing or at least having fun. Excusing herself from Legolas, Laurelin went over to the lone Elf.  
  
"Lizule? What is wrong?" Lizule sighed.  
  
"Nothing," she said shortly.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes, I am sure," Lizule snapped. "It's just."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, Retkia and Gabriel are happily married, you are going to be happily married, and where does that put me? Face it, Laurelin. I will never get married." Laurelin sat next to her friend and laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Of course you will. You are still the youngest, remember? You have all eternity to get married and raise a family. Why jump on the opportunity so suddenly?"  
  
"I don't know, it's just. I don't want to be left behind."  
  
"We won't leave you behind. I promise." Laurelin gave her friend a hug. "Now, let's see. whom can I pair you up with?" she said, scanning the room.  
  
"You wouldn't dare!" Lizule squealed.  
  
"Hmmm. Totholain looks lonely, and so does Thranduil. A ha! What about poor little lover boy over there who is hopelessly staring at you? His name is Linduris, if I can recall," Laurelin said, with a hint of amusement in her voice. Lizule shook her head, trying not to laugh.  
  
"I am sorry my Lady, but I fear none of them are the match for me."  
  
"Shame. And you all had such a good chance, don't you think?"  
  
Lizule shrugged. "They are all WAY older than me. Why does it seem like I am the youngest here?"  
  
"Because you are, although it doesn't really matter, since us Elves are immortal," Legolas said, coming up next to Laurelin. He was holding a glass of white wine.  
  
"I don't mean to intervene, ladies, but I was wondering if I could offer the lovely Lizule a dance." Lizule almost fell out of her chair.  
  
"M.m.me?" she stammered.  
  
"I don't see another Lizule here, unless it is my mind playing tricks on me." Lizule smiled and looked sheepishly at Laurelin for permission. Laurelin grinned and nodded.  
  
"Go on." Legolas gave her his arm and led her to the dance floor. Laurelin watched them both, noticing that Lizule had immediately perked up because of Legolas's offer.  
  
"He is such a good guy," she thought. "I'll have to thank him later."  
  
****  
  
After a while, Laurelin started to grow tired. She attempted to stay awake, but it was no use. Placing her hand on a table nearby, she stood up. Swaying slightly, she started towards the exit. Legolas, who was dancing with Retkia, noticed that his fiancée was leaving the ballroom. Quickly excusing himself, he walked over towards her and tapped her shoulder. Laurelin turned around to see him staring at her, wondering why she was going. Then he saw the dark circles under her eyes. "Oh, I am sorry my Lord, that I was leaving without telling you. I am rather exhausted."  
  
"I'll say. Maybe it wasn't a good idea that you came out in public so soon."  
  
"No, no, I enjoyed it. I am just so tired." Laurelin collapsed and fell to the ground. Instantly all the Elves were around her, worrying themselves useless. Legolas waved them away with his hand, and bent down. With one, swift movement, he picked her up. He was surprised at how light she was.  
  
"It's okay, everybody, I'll make sure your Princess gets some rest. Now go along with your festivities," he said as he carried her out of the room. The Elves looked at each other in bewilderment, but decided that the Prince would be true to his word. They went back to whatever they had been doing in the first place.  
  
Legolas climbed the stairs that led to Laurelin's chambers, looking for Saris. Realizing that she was probably out, he decided to take care of her himself. Kicking the door open, he laid Laurelin on her bed and covered her with a blanket. He was searching for a wash cloth when Totholain came in.  
  
"Is she okay?" Totholain said, his eyes full of concern.  
  
"I suppose. The party just took a lot out of her, I guess." Legolas found a cloth and dipped it in warm water. He dabbed her forehead with it as Totholain sat down, opposite of the bed.  
  
"Legolas, I have been meaning to tell you something. Something important."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Thranduil fears that the evil that was once in this forest may return. He has ordered me to assemble an army and train them. I need your help. You are the best archer here."  
  
Legolas felt his heart grow heavy. A war so soon? "When do we start?" he said meekly.  
  
"Right after your wedding, which will be in six weeks, from my understanding. Until then, I am going to round up volunteers and try to find suitable mounts for at least half of them. Horses are very scarce here, you know."  
  
"Yes, I know."  
  
"But. I also want to tell you something else. Originally, the plan was for you and me to be in charge and to lead the legion off to war, if there is one. However, I have altered this plan. "If there is a war, I will go with Isitur, another general, and you will stay here. I think it will be wise on behalf of the Kingdom and yourself."  
  
"What happens if you or Isitur is injured or killed?"  
  
"Then, naturally, you would take our place."  
  
"I see."  
  
"There is no talk of war yet, and probably never will. I am just informing you on the basic plan that if there was one, you would understand the procedure."  
  
"Thanks, Totholain. I will make a note of it." Totholain nodded, and stood up. He was at the doorway when he stopped and turned around.  
  
"Oh! One more thing. Promise me that you will take care of her." Legolas cocked one eyebrow suspiciously.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"With all this talk of Orcs and Balrogs, I just, well, you know, want her to be safe."  
  
"Of course. We all do. That is why she will never be permitted to leave Mirkwood forest."  
  
"I was just making sure. Good-night," Totholain said as he left.  
  
"Good-night," Legolas said cautiously. He was not sure that he could completely trust the general now, not after the strange talk they had. He sighed, and continued to pat Laurelin's face with the cloth. "Why can't things just be so much simpler?" he thought sadly to himself.  
  
****  
  
"Do you like it?" Thranduil asked Legolas, holding up the yellow robe. Legolas scrutinized it closely, and then shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"I guess it is okay. It's better than the first one. But do you have anything more. um, interesting? Something not so plain, perhaps?"  
  
"I think so." Thranduil searched through his closet till he withdrew a turquoise tunic with a forest-green vestment that went over it. Legolas's eyes lit up at the pattern, which was of a golden peacock.  
  
"I like that one."  
  
"Here, try it on." Thranduil flung the garment at Legolas as he continued to look through his wardrobe.  
  
"This cloak goes with it." He gave Legolas a silver-grey cape. Legolas unbuttoned his shirt and dressed into the outfit. He then went over to the mirror and got a good look at himself.  
  
"Wow, he thought. "I do look surprisingly good." Thranduil came over and adjusted his collar.  
  
"Did you know this is the exact thing I wore to my wedding to your mother?"  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes. She said it would look better on you. I took it as a compliment."  
  
Legolas smiled sadly. "I miss her."  
  
"As do I. But we must remember that she is in a much happier state than she would be here."  
  
"Yes, I guess so." Thranduil patted his son on the back.  
  
"Come on. Get out of that before someone sees you in it. Bad luck, you know," Thranduil said as he left his dressing chambers.  
  
"Yes, Father, I don't think I could use any bad luck," Legolas whispered to himself after his father had gone. "I really don't think I could."  
  
****  
  
Laurelin looked over the guest list once more. Everything was in order. In exactly three days, she would be wedding the Prince of Mirkwood. She was so excited, but at the same time, the thought scared her. There would be a lot of change, and she would be a part of it. It was intriguing. Sighing happily, she tossed the list aside and floated into a daydream about her wedding night. She did not even notice when her father came into her room, an unstrung bow in his hand.  
  
"I presume you are enjoying your thoughts?" he said wickedly, setting his bow down on her vanity.  
  
Laurelin jolted out of her dream love scene and focused her eyes on her father. "Actually, I am, thank you very much. Now I would appreciate if you would leave."  
  
"Ha. Short chance. Heard about your little run in with Totholain. Not much of a father to almost kill his daughter, don't you think?"  
  
"You know nothing of what you speak of, Chief Guard."  
  
"Yea? Do you really think so?"  
  
Laurelin instantly felt afraid. It was not the fear she had encountered with the Orc so long ago, or the terror of Totholain's rage. This was different. It was a cold, sort of pure hate for someone that was supposed to love you. She swallowed hard. "Yes, I do father. I think you have been having too much wine. Perhaps you might want to go ask the Healer to cleanse you of its intoxication."  
  
"Oh, look, here my daughter is telling ME what to do. Just because you are the soon to be Princess does not make me your servant. I agreed to this wedding because it made Thranduil happy. That is it. He is the only Elf I will ever show any devotion for beside your dead mother. He is the King of this realm! Eru forbid I disobey his wishes. But, I want to make one thing clear. It would have been better if you were never born. My whole life has been horrible because of you deciding to go out on a trail ride and get your mom killed! And then mighty Totholain had to come rescue you both. Pathetic. I might not know a lot, but I do know one thing: stay out of my way. I would prefer if I never had to speak to you again."  
  
"Humph. Fine with me. Totholain was the only one who ever loved me anyway, after my mother's murder."  
  
"Oh, watch it, little girl. Totholain has his secrets, as do everyone else. You would be surprised at what he does know. He holds a power in him that has not been unveiled yet, but it will be soon." The Chief Guard picked up his bow and aimed it straight at Laurelin. It did not hold an arrow, but she felt her heart rise into her throat. "You mention one word of this to Thranduil, and I will have your head, I swear by your mother." He spun on his heel and stalked off. Laurelin felt her knees buckle and she fell to the floor, shaking uncontrollably.  
  
"Great," she thought. "Thranduil has a lunatic as his Chief Guard. How much more controversy is there?"  
  
****  
  
Saris carefully selected the white gown that her mistress was to wear for her wedding that night. Laying it on Laurelin's bed, she went about the task searching for some perfect shoes. "She only has so many," the maid chuckled deeply to herself. "I wonder if there are more than fifty pairs in this cupboard?"  
  
"Good-afternoon, Saris!" Laurelin's clear voice rang out. Saris turned around and bowed.  
  
"My Lady, I was searching for some shoes to match your gown. Unfortunately, I have found none so far."  
  
"Not to worry!" Laurelin sung happily. She placed a pair of white shoes on her bed.  
  
"I asked Thranduil if I could borrow these. They were Legolas's mothers. Beautiful, don't you think?"  
  
"Of course my Lady. They match very nicely. Now, should I do your hair now, or wait till the sun sets a little lower in the sky?"  
  
Laurelin pondered about it a bit. "Why not, go ahead and do it now! May as well have it ready!" She sat down at her vanity as Saris began to brush her hair.  
  
"Are you excited, my Lady?"  
  
"You bet!" Saris laughed.  
  
"I can guess why."  
  
"Well, it's not just that. It is the fact that I'm actually, you know, getting married! And I can't wait to see Legolas in his outfit."  
  
"He will look positively stunning, let me assure you. If there is anyone who can sweep you of your feet, it's Legolas. I remember one time when you were like, four and he was quite a tiny bit older. He made all of the maidens fall out of their chairs when he passed by, including you." Laurelin smiled at the image. She thought it would be extremely funny to see that happen again. She snapped out of it just in time to see that Saris was braiding her hair the wrong way.  
  
"Wait. Don't braid them like that. Do it the other way." Saris looked startled.  
  
"Um, what other way, my Lady?"  
  
"You know. The way the Eldar wore their hair before the fall of Gil-galad."  
  
"Oh. I am not sure if I can do that, but I will try." Laurelin nodded as Saris untied her hair.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Whatever makes you happy, my Lady."  
  
When Saris had completed her hair, Laurelin sent her to find Totholain. "I have to tell him something," she explained to Saris. The maid curtsied and went to fetch him. Laurelin sat down on her bed and slowly stroked her wedding dress. "Well, Laurelin. There is no turning back now. Are you ready to do this?" she thought.  
  
"Of course you are," Totholain finished for her. Laurelin snapped her head up.  
  
"I wish you would stop doing that."  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
"Finishing my thoughts. Just because you have the extraordinary gift of reading minds does not give you the right to abuse the privilege."  
  
"Little one, I am sorry. I did not mean to offend." Totholain looked positively horrified.  
  
"Totholain, you know I was just kidding."  
  
"Oh! Why of course! I just wanted to see if you caught on."  
  
"Sure. Hey, I was wondering if you would do a favor for me."  
  
"Of course. What is it?"  
  
"My father and I are not on friendly terms at the moment, and I thought it would be better to ask you."  
  
"Ask me what?"  
  
"Would you like the honor of escorting me up the aisle?" Totholain's face lit up like a bright candle.  
  
"I would love to, my little one," he said sincerely.  
  
"Thank the Valar! I thought I would be stuck with the insane," she said, lowering her head.  
  
"Thank you, Totholain. You have no idea how much this means to me." Totholain stepped forward to giver her a hug when Saris came bursting in.  
  
"Pardon me, my Lady, but I believe that I have to put you in your gown. The celebration is about to begin! So my Lord, if you don't mind me saying, you might want to get down there immediately!" Totholain grinned at her impudence.  
  
"I was just on my way." With a wave of his hand, he proceeded downstairs.  
  
"Are you ready, my Lady?" Saris asked, picking up the gown.  
  
"As ready as I'll ever be," Laurelin replied, stepping up to be fitted into her dress.  
  
****  
  
Laurelin walked slowly down the aisle, arm in arm with Totholain. Hundreds of faces were staring at her. She recognized Retkia's face in the crowd, and smiled nervously at her. Retkia gave her the thumbs up sign. She nodded and gripped a little tighter on to Totholain's elbow.  
  
"This aisle is so long," she thought, tucking a stray lock of blond hair behind her ear. "It is just making me feel worse."  
  
"You have nothing to fear," Totholain whispered.  
  
His voice calmed her instantly and she took a deep breath. Attempting to concentrate on something else, she trained her eyes on Legolas's face, trying to see his reaction to her dress. When they drew closer, she could tell that Saris had picked the right one. He looked positively awed by it. She had to admit the outfit he was wearing made him appear almost. magical. When he glanced at her face, she dropped her eyes to the green carpet that blanketed the passageway. She didn't want him to think she was staring at him. Finally, after what seemed like an Age, they came up to the platform. Totholain let her go and stepped off to the side. She felt her sense of security leave her as Totholain took his place next to Thranduil. Gulping down nausea, she took Legolas's hand and stood across from him.  
  
He smiled at her, trying to tell her that everything would be OK. He knew she was really tense and he did not blame her. He felt the same way. They stood staring at each other until the Healer said,  
  
"We are ready to begin. Legolas, present her with the ring." Legolas stuck his hand in his pocket and withdrew a red velvet box. He opened it and placed the ring on her finger. Laurelin was amazed at its beauty. It had been crafted to form a jeweled rose, which glittered like a star under the lights.  
  
"It looks like the rose in my room," she thought. "Now I understand."  
  
"Okay. Now, I will ask of the crowd if anyone objects to this union of Prince Legolas and Lady Laurelin. Speak now, or forever hold your peace."  
  
Laurelin held her breath. All around her was dead silence. Totholain started to fidget in his chair, but Thranduil laid a reassuring had on his shoulder. "No," he uttered softly.  
  
The Healer waited a few more moments. When no objections came, he said, "All right. Now, I am going to go over the vows with you. You first Legolas. After every sentence, say 'I do.' Understand?" Legolas nodded.  
  
"Do you take Laurelin for your wife?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"Do you promise to love her for all eternity?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"To care for her even when in doubt?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"To never take advantage of her or use her?'  
  
"I do."  
  
"Do you promise to lay down your life for her?" " I do," Legolas said, with an emphasis on the 'do.' The Healer then turned to Laurelin.  
  
" Do you take Legolas for your husband?"  
  
" I do." Laurelin felt her heart go at ease. This was going to be easier than she thought.  
  
"Do you promise to love him for all eternity?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"To care for him even when in doubt?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"To never take advantage of him or use him?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"Do you promise to lay down your life for him?" Laurelin hesitated. Something inside of her was telling her that if she married Legolas, it would end in tragedy. But as she looked in his blue eyes, she could not hurt him by saying no. She just couldn't. She knew she loved him.  
  
"This is it," she told herself. "One more I do and then we are officially married." Laurelin pushed away the negative feelings and said with as much enthusiasm as she could conjure,  
  
"I do!" The Healer slapped his book closed. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. Prince Legolas, you may kiss the bride."  
  
Legolas gently pulled her close and lowered his mouth to hers. Laurelin closed her eyes and let her whole soul sink into the kiss. When they drew away, choruses of cheers rang out in the air.  
  
Thranduil stood up and raised his hands to quiet the crowd. He then turned around and picked up a silver crown, the same crown Legolas's mother had worn in the picture.  
  
"I proudly crown Lady Laurelin, the Princess of Mirkwood!" he said as he placed the crown on her forehead. Laurelin blinked away the tears of happiness as everyone stood and started to clap. She saw her father had even got up and was applauding. Retkia, Gabriel, and Lizule were standing on their chairs, their faces lit with admiration.  
  
"Do you think it could get any better?" Legolas said to her as he gripped her hand a little more tightly. Laurelin giggled, knowing what he was thinking. " I am sure it will, my Lord, I am sure it will," she said as he escorted her to the reception. All she really wanted, though, was to get out of the palace and up to Legolas's bedroom. She could not believe how excited she was.  
  
"This is going to be interesting," she thought mischievously to herself. "I can't wait!" 


	7. Ill News

Chapter 7  
  
"Noro lim, Asfaloth! We have no time to lose!" Glorfindel shouted to the Elven horse. Like an arrow released from a bow Asfaloth sprung away, his hooves making sparks on the road. Glorfindel bent over low, urging the horse faster. Asfaloth responded with even more blinding speed.  
  
"We must hurry!" he told the horse in Elvish. Glorfindel clung to the white horse's mane, his golden hair flying out behind him.  
  
"We have to get to Mirkwood! Imladris's fate depends on it!" Glorfindel said anxiously. The mystical horse gave a loud battle cry, and bolted away from Rivendell's borders, nearly leaving Glorfindel behind.  
  
****  
  
Laurelin sighed impatiently while she tapped her fingers on the table next to her.  
  
"This reception is taking much longer than I thought it would," she thought. Legolas was talking to Isitur over by the punch bowl, Retkia was dancing with Gabriel, Lizule was sitting in a corner pouting, Thranduil was talking to some of the guests, and Totholain was. she blinked twice when she realized he was not there.  
  
"Where is Totholain?" she wondered, searching the crowd for his handsome face.  
  
"It isn't like him not to be here. I know he isn't the biggest fan of parties, but he would never just not show up."  
  
She shrugged and took a sip out of the glass she was holding to act like she was having fun. Flinging her hair over her shoulder, she took to daydreaming to keep herself occupied until Legolas was ready to go upstairs and go to sleep.  
  
"Not that he will be getting any sleep," she thought. "I won't either."  
  
Lizule, who was sitting across the room, noticed her friend looked a bit bored with the celebration.  
  
"I wonder what is wrong," she thought. "She just married the most gorgeous Prince in the world, and she can't even be a tad excited?"  
  
Lizule inhaled a deep whiff of air and stood up. Placing her goblet of red wine on a counter, she went over to Laurelin and bid her goodnight. Laurelin gave a nod of recognition and continued on with her thoughts. Lizule shook her head slowly and left the palace halls. Moonlight shone through the windows and cast shadowy reflections across the walls of the palace. She walked quickly, not totally trusting the security of the palace gates. A moan from the wind caused her to jump.  
  
"Come on, grow up," she told herself. "You are acting like a child." She proceeded to her chambers and locked the door. Casting herself on her bed, she buried her face in its soft satin sheets and burst into tears.  
****  
  
Legolas nodded, pretending to understand what Isitur was talking about.  
  
"Yes, of course," he said, not even knowing what the comment was. He glanced over at Laurelin, who seemed to be having a very dull time at the moment. He knew how she felt; he felt the same way.  
  
"Why won't this thing be over? I hope Father dismisses the crowd soon," he thought. Isitur kept rambling on, oblivious to the fact that Legolas was not paying attention at all.  
  
"By the Valar, will he ever just be quiet?" Legolas thought. "He sure can talk when you get him started. Poor Totholain. He hardly talks, and this guy talks all the time. They must make each other miserable."  
  
"My Lord?" Legolas snapped out of his thoughts to see Isitur staring at him, obviously expecting an answer to his statement.  
  
"Um, I'm sorry, what was the question again?"  
  
"Do you think that we need to improve the security of the palace since all of this new talk of Orcs and such?" Isitur said, not annoyed at all.  
  
"I actually believe the palace is quite safe. It has magic surrounding it that only a host of Elves could break through."  
  
"You do have a point my Lord. Unfortunately, there are some who think differently."  
  
"Like who?" Legolas demanded, suddenly interested in the conversation.  
  
Isitur shifted uncomfortably. "Well, like."  
  
Isitur was saved from having to explain who it was. Thranduil stepped into the middle of the ballroom and said,  
  
"Lords and Ladies, it is past 1 o clock, and I believe some of the Elflings need their sleep. So if you can just wrap things up and go back home, that would be great."  
  
Isitur, seeing his opportunity, bolted away from Legolas and melted into the crowd.  
  
Legolas growled. What Isitur had said did not make him happy at all. It made him feel wary that there might be some traitors who thought better of Thranduil behind his back. He closed his eyes and counted to 10. Getting upset over such a small thing was not going to make it better.  
  
"My Lord?" He opened his eyes to see Laurelin standing in front of him, looking stunningly beautiful. All bad feelings about his conversation with Isitur dissolved into the air. He smiled and bowed.  
  
"My Lord, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I would like to go to bed now, if that is okay with you," Laurelin said, her eyes twinkling.  
  
"Fine by me. Go ahead upstairs and I'll tell my Father goodnight."  
  
"Okay." Laurelin glided across the floor, her long white dress sweeping it in almost an elegant fashion. Legolas watched her go, and then went to tell his Father goodnight.  
  
"Goodnight, Father. Pleasant dreams."  
  
"You too my son," Thranduil said. "Enjoy yourself."  
  
Legolas grinned. He bowed again and then went upstairs.  
  
"I will Father, I will," he muttered softly.  
  
****  
  
Laurelin stood in Legolas's chambers, wringing her hands. The confidence she had in herself was now gone. The excitement she had felt before had been replaced by pure nervousness. She paced the room, trying to find something to do. She took off the crown she was wearing and placed it on his cabinet. She saw that her rose had been moved into Legolas's room, along with her vanity. Shocked, she wondered how it got there. Then she remembered that Saris had started to transfer all of her belongings into Legolas's chambers.  
  
"That explains it," she thought. "This marriage is now completely official."  
  
Sighing, she looked out the window. A full moon hung in the clouds, making the dark room appear mysteriously romantic.  
  
"Great," she thought. "Now all I need is some candles and some fluffy pillows." She stopped pacing and rubbed her hands up and down her arms; it was getting cold. She closed the curtains to his balcony hastily and sat down in a chair. Instantly the aroma of his scent filled her nostrils. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.  
  
"I wonder if he is just as nervous," she thought. "Probably not. He might have even done this with someone before!" she said. As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted it. She knew he was not the type of guy to do that.  
  
"But still, he has like 40 willing partners out of this whole kingdom! That is saying something."  
  
A hard knock on the door caused her to jump in the chair.  
  
"Yes?" she said, her voice quavering.  
  
"It's just me."  
  
"Totholain!" she cried with relief. She ran to the door and flung it open. "I am so glad you are here!"  
  
The Elvish general raised his eyebrows suspiciously.  
  
"Is there something wrong?"  
  
"No, no, not at all! Why don't you come in?"  
  
Totholain shook his head. "I'd better not. Legolas will be here soon, and I am sure he wouldn't want me here," he said jokingly with a smile. Laurelin gritted her teeth.  
  
"Anyway, I wanted to apologize for not being at the party. Apparently there was an unrest in the stables, and I was summoned to check it out."  
  
~ You are such a liar, Totholain. How can you continue to lie to her? That is not who you are ~  
  
"That's fine, Totholain," Laurelin said, her heart sinking as she heard light footsteps down the hall. "I understand."  
  
Totholain nodded and bowed to Legolas as he came up.  
  
"I am sorry, my Lord, I was just leaving." He turned to Laurelin and gave her a hug.  
  
"You'll be fine," he whispered in his ear. Laurelin bit back a cry as she watched him go. It took everything she had not to run after him and beg him to stay. "I'm so scared," she thought. "And there really is no reason to be."  
  
Legolas stood staring at her. "When are you going to let me in?" he said with a laugh. Laurelin blushed and stepped aside.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"It's okay. I know Totholain is a good-looking guy."  
  
"What?! You think I like him?" Laurelin said, appalled. She loved Totholain, but not in the way Legolas was thinking. Totholain had always been a father to her, not a lover.  
  
"No, no, it was a joke. As in ha ha, get it?" Legolas said as he shut the door.  
  
"Ha." Laurelin said, her old fear conjuring up again. "Now what do I do?" she thought, feeling her heart rise in her throat. Fortunately for her, Legolas took the matter into his own hands. He stepped closer to her and stroked her cheek. She flinched. Legolas shrank back, his eyes showing the result of shock.  
  
"I'll never make you do something you don't want to do,'' he said, his voice ringing like a melody in a sad song.  
  
Laurelin nodded. "I know." The pain in his eyes was too much to bear. "We have come this far, I can't just abandon him now," she thought. "That would be most unfair to the both of us."  
  
Legolas cocked his head to one side, trying to understand what was wrong. He gently lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. Laurelin blinked away the tears that had collected in her eyes and looked straight back at him. They stood in the moonlight, gazing at each other for the longest time until Legolas grabbed her gently and pulled her close.  
  
"I love you,'' he said, his voice husky.  
  
"I love you too," Laurelin said. She laid her head on his broad chest, feeling his heart beat against the tunic he was wearing.  
  
He ran his fingers through her hair, and then kissed her neck. He went up along side her throat until he captured her lips. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he ran his hands along the small of her back. She shivered, but it wasn't because of the cold.  
  
Legolas continued to kiss her passionately as he slowly moved her to the side of the bed. Laurelin felt him undo the straps to the wedding gown and let it drop to the floor. He gradually laid her on the bed; Laurelin relaxed as the soft feathers instantly enveloped her. She watched him remove his shirt, to reveal a lean but well-muscled body. He then took off his trousers and got into the bed. Laurelin noticed that he still had his father's crown on. She reached for it and removed it.  
  
"You shouldn't still be wearing this," she said. She leaned across him and placed it on the nightstand. "What would your father think?"  
  
Legolas grinned and then said softly, "That I am the luckiest Elf in the world." Laurelin propped her elbow up on his stomach so she could look at him.  
  
"You really think so?" she said, a hint of disbelief in her voice.  
  
Legolas chuckled. With one swift movement, he switched positions with her, so that now he was resting on her stomach. His hands traveled up the side of her and got entwined in her hair. He lowered his mouth and brushed his lips with her own. Laurelin closed her eyes, the delight coming at too low a price.  
  
"More," she mumbled, not realizing she actually said it out loud. Laurelin moved her hands so they were behind his neck.  
  
Legolas responded quickly to her request. She felt him thrusting up inside of her, and she bit her tongue to keep from crying out. It was pleasurable pain, but it was pain nonetheless. She dug her nails into his back, drawing blood. It was all she could do not to scream.  
  
Legolas came up for breath and looked into her clear, blue eyes.  
  
"Now do you believe me?" he said, a note of humor in his voice. "I only say what I mean, and mean what I say."  
  
"I believe you," Laurelin breathed. She gasped for air; it seemed she could never get enough. Her chest heaved up and down with the rhythm of her heartbeat. Beads of sweat started to form around her scalp.  
  
Legolas placed his hand on her heart and said, "You haven't forgotten the rose yet, have you?"  
  
"Oh, no, of course not!" she said and glanced over towards her vanity. The rose was there, as always, but tonight it seemed to possess a bright, burning light. She watched in fascination as it started to glow.  
  
"Wow."  
  
"That rose has a bit of magic in it yet. You just never know when it may surprise you."  
  
Laurelin took his hand and planted a delicate kiss on his palm.  
  
"I have been surprised more than I reckoned for already," she said, feeling a sense of exhaustion engulf her.  
  
"I've tired you out," Legolas said, his voice full of worry. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be. By all means, you can take me again."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"I only say what I mean, and mean what I say," she said, letting his hand go.  
  
Legolas smiled.  
  
"Indeed I shall."  
  
****  
  
Laurelin awoke to chaos. Elves were running around frantically outside of the bedroom, and Legolas was up and dressed. He was grabbing his crown when Laurelin asked him,  
  
"My Lord, where are you going?" Legolas stopped and looked at her.  
  
"There seems to be a problem. Glorfindel of Rivendell arrived very early this morning, begging to speak to my father and me. I have been summoned at once." He placed his crown on his forehead.  
  
"What's the big deal about Glorfindel? I have never heard of him." Legolas shook his head.  
  
"He is the most powerful Elf-lord still living in Middle-earth, next to Elrond. To receive him here is a great honor; no matter what ill news he may bring. I am surprised, though, that he traveled alone."  
  
Legolas nodded towards her clothes. "You may want to get dressed also. I believe everyone is going to be in my Father's palace to see what he wants." With that said, Legolas left, shutting the door behind him.  
  
Laurelin tumbled out of bed, dreading that fact that everyone was up so early. She picked through her clothes that Legolas had brought her and decided on her favorite blue one. She put it on and didn't even bother to brush her hair; it was tangle-free.  
  
Glancing around the room, she noticed that Legolas had hung up her dress. She smiled.  
  
"He takes care of the tiniest little details," she thought. She took her crown and put it on her head. "It'll take a long time to get used to doing that every night," she told herself.  
  
A loud yell from outside reminded her where she was going.  
  
"Well, let's see what he has to say," she said. "I hope it isn't bad." She walked through the doorway and down the hall, dodging servants and maids.  
  
"Gosh, he must be important," she thought as the King's butler ran by. "I can't wait to meet him."  
  
**** "Come on," Retkia told Gabriel. "You take forever!" Gabriel grinned as he locked the door to their home.  
  
"You never know when someone might want to break into your house and steal your possessions," he said, humor in his voice.  
  
"Funny. You know that no one would ever do that. And it's not like there is anything valuable in there."  
  
"Of course not. Because all I need is right here," he said as he leaned forward and gave her a kiss.  
  
Retkia rolled her eyes. "Remind me again why I married you?"  
  
"Cause I am so irresistible," he said as they made their way towards the palace.  
  
"Right," she said, glancing towards the castle.  
  
She was so excited. Retkia had never seen anyone from Rivendell, and the thought that someone as great as Glorfindel coming intrigued her. She quickened her pace, praying that they both would get a good seat.  
  
"This should be interesting," she thought as she waved to Lizule, who was running by. "Very interesting."  
  
Lizule didn't have time to return her friend's greeting. The King himself had instructed her that she would be the one giving Lord Glorfindel a tour of Mirkwood. She felt very honored; it was not every day that she picked out of a crowd to show someone around. Thranduil knew that she was extremely familiar with the layout of Mirkwood, and would be able to give Glorfindel the best visit possible.  
  
Lizule felt much happier than she had been last night. It seemed that everyone but her had been in love with someone at the party, and it tore her to pieces. When Laurelin had shown no interest in the reception, it hurt her even more. She had gotten over her grief, even though it still tore at her heart every now and then.  
  
"But, if I don't get there on time," she reprimanded herself, noticing that the palace courtyard was almost deserted, "then I may as well forget about giving anyone a tour. Thranduil will never offer the opportunity to me again."  
  
****  
  
Laurelin stood next to Legolas, watching all of the people coming in. She recognized Retkia and Gabriel out of the crowd, but she could not find Lizule. Thranduil was unusually quiet, sitting on his throne, apparently thinking. Totholain was standing off to the side, his face laden with sadness. Laurelin turned her head away. She did not want to know what was troubling him. Soon, everyone was seated, and the silence pierced the air. Laurelin wondered when this "Glorfindel" was going to show up.  
  
As if on command, he stepped through the castle door. Muffled gasps were heard all around. Laurelin's mouth dropped. He was tall and elegant, his yellow hair gleaming like a pot of gold. He wore all white, and the sword at his side glimmered whenever he took a step. His face was ageless, but was set in an emotionless stare, intensifying his beauty. If Laurelin had not ever seen Legolas before him, she would have fainted. He strode forward, his stride bearing the confidence of an aged warrior, full of strength and poise. The appearance of him enchanted her.  
  
"So this is what the Noldor Elves look like," she thought. Being a Silvan Elf, like Legolas, she had never seen the like of Glorfindel. Although he was extremely handsome, she knew that in her heart, she belonged to Legolas. No one, not even Glorfindel, could beat his magnificence.  
  
He stopped at the bottom of Thranduil's throne, oblivious to the fact that all of the maidens were staring at him openly.  
  
"Lord Elrond brings an urgent message," he said, his voice ringing like little silver bells. "There is trouble abroad in Rivendell."  
  
Thranduil shifted in his chair; he knew that something like this would have happened sooner or later.  
  
"I suspected that," he said. "We were going to start to prepare an army for safety purposes in our own kingdom, as my son and Totholian know, but this news you bring us is very urgent."  
  
Laurelin looked at Legolas, shocked.  
  
~ He knew that Thranduil was going to build an army? Why didn't he tell me? ~  
  
"Indeed it is," Glorfindel said, his eyes grave. "I have come here to ask for your help in this soon-to-be war, in defense of Imladris."  
  
Laurelin felt her heart drop to her toes.  
  
"Please don't take Legolas," she thought. "Please don't take Legolas."  
  
Thranduil nodded. "Of course I will help. But who or what is our enemy, my Lord?"  
  
That was the first time Laurelin had ever heard Thranduil call someone else, "Lord."  
  
~ Glorfindel must be pretty important. ~  
  
Glorfindel shuddered. "I'd rather not speak of it, but I must tell you, or you will have no idea what we are up against." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them.  
  
"There has been a group of Orcs seen on our borders. It did not concern us, since their numbers were so few and their weapons dull. But, when a scout noticed that they had a Balrog with them, well, it was quite a shock."  
  
"A Balrog!" Thranduil exclaimed, his face turning pale. "I thought they were destroyed in the fall of Sauron."  
  
"We all did. This one must have escaped and hidden out for two hundred years. The Orcs have made it their captain, out of fear, of course, and are preparing for attack. I was able to slip out to the east, but only barely. They are mustering more forces of Orcs that are wandering around aimlessly, and their army has grown big. A legion of 5,000, I dare say."  
  
Thranduil groaned. "This is ill news indeed. I received the understanding that the War of the Ring's purpose was to drive out evil forever."  
  
"Unfortunately, it got rid of Sauron but not his hate. It is still infested within the black hearts of the Orcs and the Balrog. One host of Elves cannot with hold so much hate. That is why I have been sent to get help from you, if you will lend it."  
  
Thranduil nodded. "Of course I will. How many Elves do you need?"  
  
"Two generals, and about 500 Elves for backup. Most of Rivendell is already preparing for war, so we do not need much. "  
  
"How long will this affair last?"  
  
"I'd say about a week, at the most. The thing I am most concerned about is destroying the Balrog. If we can kill it, the Orcs are defenseless. I hope that this battle will rid Middle-earth of this reckless hate."  
  
Thranduil stood up, and turned to Totholain. "I am putting you in charge, along side Isitur, which is just how we planned. Do you have any objections?" Totholain shook his head. He wanted to do this. Laurelin breathed a sigh of relief. They weren't going to send Legolas.  
  
"Good, I knew I could count on you. Glorfindel, when is the last possible day that we can depart from Mirkwood to help Imladris in time?"  
  
"Two weeks."  
  
"Hmmm. That'll have to do. I will start training our army immediately. I presume you will be staying to assist in the sword-fighting?"  
  
"If Legolas will do the archery. He is the best of the best."  
  
"I will teach to the highest of my ability," Legolas said, flustered by the compliment Glorfindel had given him.  
  
"Excellent. We start tomorrow." 


	8. A Petty Conspiracy

Chapter 8  
  
"Lizule, come here please," Thranduil said.  
  
"Yes, your Highness?"  
  
"You can take Glorfindel on his tour now. He has rested, and wants to explore the entire forest."  
  
Lizule gulped. "All of it?"  
  
"Well, no, that would take days. Just show him the stables, gardens, that sort of thing. He needs to be familiar with the layout of Mirkwood. You don't mind showing him around, do you?"  
  
"Oh! No, not at all," she said, astonished. She was going to take this god around the place? She could hardly believe it. Lizule knew some of the maidens at Mirkwood would give their life just to have Glorfindel look at them.  
  
Thranduil smiled. "Good. Now run along. I believe he is waiting for you in the courtyard."  
  
Lizule nodded nervously, bowed, and left. She felt old anxiety overwhelm her as she made her way out of the palace and into the afternoon sunshine. They light from the sun was so bright, it made her squint. Even though her eyes were half-closed, she picked him out of the crowd in a second. He was over by the stables, talking to one of the grooms. She took a deep breath and said,  
  
"My Lord, my name is Lizule. I will be your tour guide for this evening." Glorfindel paused in his conversation and looked straight at her. He grinned, nodded to the groom, and came over to her. Lizule felt her legs start to shake as he stopped in front of her. She cursed her shortness (for an Elf) silently, praying that he would not do something that would make her embarrassed of her height. He did nothing of the sort.  
  
"Why, thank you. I was wondering if I would have to explore this place myself. It is always nice to go on an adventure after a long ride, you know?"  
  
Lizule shrugged, feeling her body start to relax. "I have never gone on an "adventure." My Lord, this will not be an exciting tour, let me assure you. I have been commanded to show you the grounds of Mirkwood so you can understand this place."  
  
"I have been here before, a long time ago, when Oropher ruled. I know most of my way around the palace, so I was going to ask you if you could show me something new, something I might not have seen before."  
  
Lizule nodded, instantly thinking of the wild meadow, even though it filled her heart with sadness. "I know just the place." She pointed East. "Come on, I'll show you."  
  
****  
  
"Why did you lie?"  
  
Legolas froze in place. He pivoted on his feet and faced Laurelin's angry stare.  
  
"I did not lie. I just didn't inform you of our military procedure."  
  
"Then why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Because you never asked me, and I did not think it was relevant to our marriage."  
  
"How did I know that I was supposed to ask you? I had not one clue."  
  
"Look, I am sorry, okay, but I have no time to argue about this. I have to fix my bow since the preparation starts tomorrow." He spun on his heel and stalked off.  
  
Laurelin glared after him.  
  
"Liar," she hissed under her breath. Since when could he treat her like that? What gave him the right to deliberately deceive to her? She exhaled loudly and tried to put her temper under control. She finally succeeded and decided that she would go for a ride on Galada. It would help ease her mind.  
****  
  
"This is the location I was telling you about," Lizule said as Glorfindel came up beside her. The hill they were standing on enabled them to see the whole meadow. Daisies flowed gently in the breeze, birds chattered back and forth. The sun-kissed grass glinted under the sky.  
  
"It's dazzling. I love the view," he said, shading his eyes with his long hand. Lizule nodded silently, agreeing with him.  
  
"What's that?" Glorfindel pointed towards a small cave, south of the meadow. He started to walk closer.  
  
Lizule ran forward to stop him, but it was too late. He was already there, running his hand over the inscriptions on the rock wall.  
  
"Wow. Look at all these markings. What do they stand for?"  
  
"Um, it's a tradition. Every person who comes up here must carve their name in the wall, along with their lovers," she said uncomfortably.  
  
"So it's a lovers cove?" he said, not noticing the hesitation in her voice.  
  
"Uh, well, yes. See, here is Legolas and Laurelin's name. They inscribed that a long time ago."  
  
"So you were with them?" Lizule blushed; she now had to tell him the complete story.  
  
"It was me, them, Retkia, and Gabriel. We all came up here together, supposedly for a picnic. It turned out to be more of a, uh. well, you get what I mean." Lizule felt her face growing hot.  
  
"Anyway, Legolas and Laurelin carved their names, along with Gabriel and Retkia. It stands for the bond the couples will share with each other for all eternity."  
  
"I see." Glorfindel studied the writings again, more intently.  
  
"Is your name on here?" he asked, turning to her.  
  
Lizule lowered her head. "No. I have never taken anyone back here, it is too long a walk just to fool around with someone who doesn't even love you."  
  
"What do you mean by that?"  
  
"Nothing. Forget it." she said sadly, lost in her own, dreary thoughts. "It's not worth your trouble."  
  
Glorfindel lifted her chin up so he could gaze into her eyes.  
  
" I will be the judge of that, Lizule," he murmured, his voice ringing like a choir of angels.  
  
Lizule felt her knees go weak. She nodded her head, not trusting the voice inside of her.  
  
"Oh my God, oh my God, no, he isn't going to kiss me," she thought as he leaned forward and brushed her dark hair away from her face.  
  
"You are very beautiful, you know," he said. "I am surprised that no male Elves have swiped you yet."  
  
Lizule shrugged her shoulders, trying to lift the tension off her body.  
  
"I guess not. I just haven't shown any interest in anyone yet."  
  
"Not even me?" Glorfindel said, grinning broadly.  
  
"Uh, um, you. you're an exception. I have never met someone like you."  
  
"Is that a good or bad thing?"  
  
"Definitely good. Really good."  
  
"I'm glad." He pulled her close and brushed his lips with her own.  
  
Lizule closed her eyes, letting her soul sink into oblivion.  
  
****  
  
Laurelin stroked Galada's neck while chewing on her bottom lip worriedly. She had just returned from her ride, it had been a short one, for she still tired easily. Her heart was weary and she knew that she owed Legolas an apology. She just had a hard time admitting she was wrong.  
  
"And I screwed up big time," she thought. "I don't know what I was thinking when I went off on him."  
  
Galada nudged her with her nose, obviously expecting a treat. Laurelin smiled sadly and patted the mare.  
  
"I'm sorry sweetheart, but I do not have anything to feed you. I'll remember to bring something next time."  
  
Galada snorted her disapproval and decided to eat her hay. Laurelin waved good-bye to the horse and left the stables. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, making the day dark and gray. She drudged along, her soul heavy. Each step took an enormous amount of effort. She finally gave way to her exhaustion.  
  
"I'll go take a nap," she told herself. "But then I'll have to go tell Legolas that I am dearly sorry, or I will never get around to doing it."  
  
****  
  
Author's Note: Sorry this chapter is so short, I will make it up in the next chapter. Please review my story. Thank you! . 


	9. Unknown Love

Chapter 9  
  
"Saris, what are you doing?" Laurelin asked as she saw Saris carrying the last of her wardrobe out of the room.  
  
"M.my Lady, I was taking the rest of your clothes to Legolas's chambers. That is what you wanted isn't it? I was supposed to transfer all of your belongings to his rooms?" she said, her voice shaking slightly at her mistress's tone.  
  
"Of course, of course, I am sorry, I indeed forgot. Proceed." Saris bowed and left.  
  
Laurelin ran her hand along her oak door, thinking of how she had grown to love this bedroom. Now, she would be living in all new surroundings. It was sort of creepy. The balcony to her room was open, and the blue curtains fluttered in the breeze, rippling like clear seawater on a calm day. She noticed a piece of paper on the floor, next to her chair. She bent down and picked it up.  
  
"What's this?" she thought. She opened it and sat down. It read:  
  
Laurelin,  
  
I wanted to apologize for my actions yesterday. I had no right to go off on you like that. I will admit that the wine had something to do with my nastiness, and I am dearly sorry. When I saw you at your wedding, I knew that Totholain deserved to walk you up the aisle. I have not been a father at all to you, and I fear I won't ever be able to. Nevertheless, I was so happy for you that I had to applaud. You got one of the best Elves in Mirkwood. Prince Legolas will be able to love you, something that I do not have the capacity to do, and never will.  
  
I will be brief in this letter, my time has come and I am leaving for Valinor. I know this is an incredible shock, but Thranduil has been aware that I have been planning to depart. In my absence, I leave you my sword, bow and quiver of arrows, along with all of my possessions. You are my heir to everything I have, and I give it away gladly. I hope that you will have a wonderful life, full of many blessings. My fondness for you will always be true, not matter what.  
  
Best Regards,  
Your Father  
  
Laurelin choked back a sob. She closed the letter as delicate tears fell and blurred the writing. Her birth father was leaving. He would be joining her mother in Valinor. She smiled sadly, feeling as though her heart was now at peace.  
  
"I love you, Chief Guard," she thought as she went out on to her balcony. She threw the paper up into the air and offered it to the wind. The letter soared higher and higher, up into the never-ending sky. She sighed as all of the hatred and anger that was bottled up inside of her dissolved in the evening's mist.  
  
"I forgive you, Father. I understand." She felt her old energy flow through her and fill her with a sense of remorse.  
  
Knowing what she had to do, she gathered up her courage and went to face Legolas.  
  
****  
  
"Where is my bow?" Legolas said as he threw a pile of clothes aside. Searching frantically through his cupboard, he withdrew a bunch of arrows and his quiver, but no bow. He laid them down on a table and continued to look for it.  
  
"I treasure it," he thought. "It was a present from Lady Galadriel herself. I couldn't have lost it! There is no way!" he thought as he moved an old knife out of the way.  
  
"This is so not fair!" He groaned as he realized his bow was not in his closet. He looked around his entire bedroom, trying to think of a place it might be.  
  
"I hate it!"  
  
"Hate what, my Lord?" Legolas's turned his stare on the soft voice. The voice belonged to Laurelin. She took a step back, as if slapped.  
  
"Everything!" he snapped as he stood up, trying to think clearly. He blinked his eyes a couple times, attempting to get his anger under control.  
  
"My Lord, are you okay?" Laurelin said, as she took another step backwards, not totally trusting him in his rage.  
  
"Yes, yes, I am fine. I just can't find my bow, and I must have it fixed by tomorrow," Legolas breathed, softening his tone. Laurelin approached him cautiously, her head cocked to one side.  
  
"Perhaps if you looked under your bed, you would see it," she said.  
  
Legolas ran over and peeked under his bed. Sure enough, his bow was there, gathering dust despite its gorgeous wood finish. He picked it up and brushed it off.  
  
"Thanks," he said as he placed it with his quiver. "I needed it desperately since the training starts tomorrow."  
  
"Aye, yes the training. That is important," Laurelin said awkwardly. She walked over towards her vanity were the rose was. Its glow was gone from the night before, and it was just a plain white rose. She inhaled its wonderful scent and took a deep breath.  
  
"Everyone is going off to war, and my father is leaving for Valinor. I will be alone."  
  
"He is leaving for Valinor?" Legolas thought. "That is the first I heard of it."  
  
"That's not true. I will be here, along with Thranduil, Retkia, and Lizule. You will have plenty of company."  
  
"You think so?" Legolas raised his eyebrows at the question. It was so similar to the one she had asked last night.  
  
"Yes," he said, "I do."  
  
Laurelin nodded. "I am sorry."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For accusing you of lying. It was not my place to say that."  
  
"No harm done, my Lady. I understand. It was not right for me to hide the plan from you. I should have been more open."  
  
"It seems we were both at fault. So lets just forget it and move on with our lives, agreed?"  
  
Legolas smiled reassuringly.  
  
"Of course." He grabbed her around the waist and kissed his forgiveness to her.  
  
When they drew away, Laurelin said,  
  
"Yes, yes, I accept. But lets try to never fight about something as stupid as that was. It was very childish on our part."  
  
"It was," Legolas said as he hugged her. She gripped hard on to his tunic, telling herself to never let go.  
  
****  
  
"My Lord, please, we should be heading back. It is becoming really dark, and I fear someone will notice we are not where we are supposed to be."  
  
Glorfindel grinned as he continued to caress her cheek. "Is that a bad thing?'  
  
"Well, no, I guess not. It's just. this cave is very cold and sort of spooky. It doesn't feel right to be doing this."  
  
~ When Gabriel and Retkia did the same thing we are doing now, in this exact spot, while me, Legolas and Laurelin waited outside. ~  
  
"Yes?" Glorfindel said, expecting an answer to the rest of her statement.  
  
"Nothing." Lizule closed her eyes and drifted away from the dreary cave and to a gorgeous place full of laughter and joy.  
  
"What is Rivendell like?" she blurted, suddenly curious about his home.  
  
Glorfindel sat up and sighed wistfully. He stuck his hand inside his tunic and withdrew a beautiful copper leaf. It sparkled as if someone was shining an invisible light on it.  
  
"It is extremely pretty, and the trees are of golden color. All things are green and full of life. There is no sadness."  
  
"Is it as nice as here?'  
  
"Mirkwood is beautiful, but there is a unhappy feeling here that will never leave. Mirkwood Forest used to be evil, as you know. It will take a long time till the treachery is driven out. But, in Rivendell, on the other hand, there is an everlasting love that will stay for all eternity, unless, of course, the Balrog and the Orcs destroy it."  
  
"I hope that does not happen. It would be awful."  
  
"Yes it would. That is why Lord Elrond wants to take as many precautions as possible. You can never be too safe."  
  
Lizule leaned against the hard stone. The coolness stung her back, but she did not move.  
  
"I wish I could see it someday," she whispered. "I wish I could see it in all of its glory."  
  
Glorfindel looked at her thoughtfully. He didn't understand his feelings for her yet, for to love a Silvan was unheard of in Imladris. Each Elf to his own kind was the rule of life. And now he just might break it. "How will I tell her about my power?" he thought. "She might detest me afterwards." Nevertheless, he took a deep breath to fill his lungs with some needed oxygen, and said,  
  
"You could come with me, if you'd like, when I leave with Thranduil's army."  
  
Lizule stared at him in surprise. Never in an Age would she expect him to offer her his home. She smiled gleefully.  
  
"I would LOVE to see Rivendell and live with you. I would absolutely love to. But what would Lord Elrond think?"  
  
"He is more tolerant than you'd might expect. I mean, he let his only daughter marry a mortal. I am positive we could work around him."  
  
They grinned at each other.  
  
"You know what this means?" Glorfindel said, arching his eyebrows.  
  
"Yes, I do. And I couldn't be happier."  
  
****  
  
"Legolas," Laurelin crooned softly in the Elf's ear. "It is time to wake up and start yet another day."  
  
Legolas shook his head, his eyes half-closed. "No my love, you are incorrect. It is time for the world to start another day. It says nothing about us."  
  
"My dear, you missed out last night because you decided to fall asleep. Shame!"  
  
"Well," he groaned as her turned over to face her. "I'll make it up to you tonight."  
  
Laurelin smiled. She kissed him lightly on the lips and then said,  
  
"Deal. Now you might want to get up before Glorfindel has to come in here and reprimand you. I have heard he is quite the drill sergeant."  
  
She kissed him again and then left him to get dressed. He needed time to himself.  
  
****  
  
"Okay this is how it is all going to work. I will split you up into four groups. One for me, one for Isitur, one for Totholain, and one for Legolas. You will work on each specific skill for two hours before moving on to the next one. There are enough of you to divide evenly, so it should all fit into schedule. Good luck and not complaining!" Glorfindel said to the crowd.  
  
Muffled cheers and groans were heard all around. Legolas stood proudly next to Totholain, holding his bow in his hand. He scanned the crowd, and saw a few familiar faces, such as Gabriel and Linduris. But for most of the day, he would be addressing Elves he scarcely knew. It intrigued him but it also scared him.  
  
"Okay. Let's begin. All of you to the left, go with Totholain. The middle goes with Isitur. The right will go with Legolas, and anyone who is doesn't have a group: come with me!" 


	10. The Concealed Identity

Author's Note: This chapter is sort of confusing, I suggest if you have not read The Silmarillion to at least attempt to understand it. Thanks!  
  
In this chapter, you Silmarillion freaks will find out how Totholain is 30,000 years old when he is just an Elf. or is he?  
  
Chapter 10  
  
Totholain sighed as he explained to a naïve Elf for the fourth time how to maneuver his horse around the terrifying obstacle. The stallion stopped and balked, throwing its rider to the ground.  
  
Totholain shook his head and caught the horse before it ran into the woods.  
  
"He doesn't trust you," Totholain said to the embarrassed Elf as he got up and dusted himself off.  
  
"You have to feel his movements, his thoughts, his actions. If you and the horse don't become one, then you may as well stick to walking." Totholain patted the horse and turned towards the remaining Elves.  
  
"Next?" he bellowed, scanning the crowd. No one stepped forward. Totholain exhaled a long breath of frustration.  
  
"I suppose that you are all too scared to attempt this? Do I have to show you myself?" No answer.  
  
Totholain swung up onto the horse and settled deep into the saddle. He urged the stallion towards the scary object. The horse started to tremble slightly under his weight as it eyed the obstacle. Totholain patted its neck and kept him moving forward.  
  
"Whoa, boy," he said softly. The general closed his eyes, feeling the horse move underneath him. "One step at a time."  
  
Totholain opened his eyes. The horse had passed the object without anything more than a snort. He smiled and got off the horse.  
  
"That's all you have to do," he said. "Trust the horse, and he will always trust you. Now who would like to try?"  
  
Gabriel raised his hand. "I would, sir," he answered. Totholain acknowledged him with a nod and helped him on to the horse.  
  
"It is not hard. Just let the horse know you understand his fear and can help him overcome it. When you are out in battle and a horse spooks, and he does not trust you, you are good enough dead. Everyone understand?"  
  
~ They better be able to understand. I won't always be there to instruct them. ~  
  
Murmurs of "yes," rippled through the crowd.  
  
"Okay. Gabriel, lets get started."  
  
****  
  
Laurelin found her birth father strolling around in the gardens one last time. He was leaving in a couple hours, and she wanted to tell him that she forgave him.  
  
"Father," she called gently, trying to sound as sweet as possible. "Father, I forgive you."  
  
The Chief Guard turned, his face laden with sadness. "Nay, you do not want to forgive me. I have been an insolent and cruel person to you ever since your mother died. It was not your fault. Fate takes part in all of our daily lives, and we can do nothing to alter it."  
  
"Yes, Father. We must live in the future." She sat down on a cool, hard bench. Beautiful flowers were blooming all over it.  
  
"Living in the future can be fatal. Laurelin, just because we are immortal does not mean we are invincible."  
  
"Of course not! We are the farthest thing from being invincible!"  
  
"We do, however, have a weakness that other races do not. If we hold enough grief in our hearts, we will die."  
  
"I know. It is a very unfortunate thing to be laid upon us, but it has been. We can't change who we are."  
  
"No. We sure can't," her Father said sorrowfully. "Um, I am concerned for you," he blurted.  
  
When I leave, how can I be sure that you will be taken care of? I mean, I know that Legolas will treat you like a goddess, and so will Thranduil. But Totholain. I sense a deep, dark energy in him that is troublesome to my mind. Thranduil has felt it too."  
  
~ So have I ~  
  
"I think he is just really stressed out. He has a host of 500 Elves to get to Rivendell with only Glorfindel and Isitur's help. Anything like that can tire you out."  
  
"I guess. But I just wonder if he is trying to keep you from something, something that could be good or bad. That is not wise."  
  
"Father, I would give Totholain a break. He needs one."  
  
~ You aren't my Father. I might refer to you as one, but you aren't. Totholain is. ~  
  
The Chief guard sat beside Laurelin and took her hand in his palm.  
  
"We all do."  
  
****  
  
Totholain stood out in the gardens. Laurelin's father had just left for Valinor along with a couple other Elves who were departing also. Laurelin had been extremely upset; Legolas had held her most of the time after her father was gone. Totholain knew that neither Legolas nor Laurelin would ever see those Elves again. That was not their fate.  
  
Out of nowhere, one single tear slid down his cheek. He didn't even bother to wipe it away.  
  
Totholain looked up at the stars, imagining that the Valar were in the sky, stalking over him.  
  
"When is my time?" he cried, his voice splitting the air.  
  
"What is my purpose? I hate you all for destroying these young lovers' lives. They deserve to live for many more an Age. But you are going to take them away before they can even start to live. Well, I will tell you this. I won't have it. You may kill me, but I am going to tell her, and there is nothing you can do."  
  
He spun on his heel and was about to go inside when he heard a slow, soft voice come up behind him. It made his blood run cold. He stopped dead, his body shaking. He then withdrew his sword, Glamdrigul, and prepared to face his attacker, knowing straight forward who it was. The sword started to shimmer a blazing red, in response to its master's anger. Totholain whirled around and found himself in front of the most terrifying spirit ever.  
  
"Elbereth!" he screamed, as his ageless face went livid. "You CANNOT do this to me now!" he said, his hands trembling in rage. He charged at the Valar goddess, but an invisible force seemed to prohibit him from impairing her. He was hurled back against the hard stone.  
  
"Don't do what, Totholain? I have warned you. You can never interfere with my plans. They may be cruel and unusual, but all of them have a purpose."  
  
Totholain jumped to his feet. "You call planning to kill Legolas and Laurelin cruel and unusual? It's just my luck I figured out their fate. For now, I am the only one who knows. But soon, I am going to tell EVERYBODY in the entire realm of Mirkwood! Then your little schemes will not work!"  
  
Elbereth laughed mockingly. "Totholain, you have forgotten who you are and why you are here. Your love of Laurelin has transformed you into a bitter Elf, not the mightiest of the Maiar. You are a Maiar, Totholain. Always remember that."  
  
"I don't need to remember who I am. I am Totholain, Thranduil's General. That is my identity."  
  
"No, Totholain, that is not who you are, nor why you are here. You were put here to save Laurelin from the darkness of her fate that horrible night so long ago when she was only a tiny Elf-child. You did your part. You rescued her. But now, you have no more power in her life. Meddling with fate is a foolish thing to do, Totholain. I thought you were wiser than this."  
  
Totholain clutched his sword so hard his hands turned white. He was going to stay in Mirkwood, with Laurelin, even if it meant that he would have to be dead. The only way he could save her now was to save Legolas's own life. He knew that if Legolas didn't heed the warnings of not to go to Rivendell, he would die. Totholain had only one single option if he wanted Laurelin to survive. He quickly took it, knowing the full consequences of his actions.  
  
"Tell me, Elbereth, do gods bleed?" he said, his eyes like burning like coals of fire.  
  
"Totholain, no. I will not lose you to your madness. Come with me, back to where you belong. Do not give yourself up to save her."  
  
"I love her," he said firmly, his eyes never leaving Elbereth's. "She is my daughter, and a father would die for his daughter. " He took a step back, and with one swift, non-hesitating movement, he plunged his sword deep into his heart. With a sickening thud, his wounded body fell to the ground.  
  
Elbereth closed her eyes, grief over coming her. She faded away sadly as she heard Laurelin running through the garden, calling his name.  
  
"Caled veleg ethuiannen," she told herself. {A great light has gone out}  
  
With that final thought, she floated up into the heavens, her translucent head bowed.  
  
"Totholain! Totholain!" Laurelin shrieked as she saw the general lying on the ground, bathed in his blood, the sword protruding from his chest.  
  
She bent down next to his dying body, tears running down her cheeks.  
  
"Totholain, what happened?" she sobbed.  
  
He gasped and took a short, painful breath. "Love Legolas. Don't let him leave. You can't let him leave. Promise me that you will not let him leave? Promise me!"  
  
Laurelin took his hand; it felt unnaturally cold. "I promise," she choked out, her voice breaking.  
  
Totholain nodded stiffly.  
  
"I love you, my daughter. I love you more than I have ever loved myself. Don't you EVER forget that," he said. He gasped again, he knew he was at the end.  
  
"The rose," he whispered. "The rose will tell you his fate." Totholain then closed his eyes and never saw the light of day again.  
  
Laurelin screamed. "NO! NO! You can't die! NO!" She shook the lifeless body.  
  
"You're not dead!" she wailed. She hit him hard, again and again, but he didn't wake up.  
  
"NO!!!!!" she cried out in despair, her tears mixing with the blood on the ground. Crying uncontrollably, she laid beside him on the wet stone. She buried her face in his blood- stained hair, trying to ease her pain.  
  
"Please don't leave me."  
  
****  
  
The Seer Speaks.  
  
Y'enillor morne  
  
Tulinte I quettar  
  
Hlasta! Qyetes  
  
Hfirmain  
  
The Ringspell.  
  
~  
  
The Seer Speaks,  
  
Out of the Black Years  
  
Comes the words  
  
The Herald of death  
  
Listen- it speaks to  
  
Those who were not born to die  
  
The Ringspell.  
  
****  
  
Legolas applied a fresh coat of gloss to his newly fixed bow. It had worked well today, but he wanted it to be kept in its best repair. He ran his hand along the smooth finish; checking it to make sure everything was in order. He placed the bow back on the table and sat quietly, thinking.  
  
The light from the moon shone through his curtains, casting soft rays of shadows across the floor. Clearing his mind, he thought back to the days when he had traveled so very far with Gimli and Aragorn across the Plains of Rohan to rescue the two Hobbits, Merry and Pippin. He missed his friends, especially Aragorn, who had died 80 years before.  
  
"That is the price for being immortal," he thought. "You live forever as your friends continue to die."  
  
The moon's light was diminished suddenly. Legolas sat straight up in his chair. Something was not right. He could feel it. He ran to the door and opened it to see a distraught Lizule standing there, about to knock, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
  
"What happened?" he demanded. Lizule opened her mouth, but no words came out. She took a deep breath and managed to say,  
  
"Laurelin."  
  
"Oh, by the Valar!" he bolted past her and out of the palace.  
  
"It can't be that her father left, it just can't be," he thought in a rage of panic.  
  
"Please don't let that be it," he said out loud as he flew into the gardens. A throng of Elves were standing in a circle around Laurelin. She was on the ground, hovering over something.  
  
"Out of my way!" he bellowed, pushing all of the Elves aside. He gasped at the sight that he saw before his eyes.  
  
Laurelin was lying by Totholain's dead body, her clothing stained in his blood. Legolas stood there, shocked.  
  
"Are you okay?" he said, his voice unsteady.  
  
She looked up at him. The pain and grief that was etched on her face was horrific.  
  
"No," she said flatly. "He is dead."  
  
Legolas's eyes grew wide. He saw that Totholain's own sword was stuck in his chest, which was quite frightening.  
  
"Do you know who killed him?"  
  
Laurelin closed her eyes, fresh tears working their way through her lashes.  
  
"I didn't see." Legolas stepped forward and bent down next to her. Totholain's face was set in an image of peace, his eyes were closed and his hands were folded neatly across his torso. It was so peculiar, though. He did not understand.  
  
Laurelin's one hand was still clutching his hair, as if she wouldn't move.  
  
"We have to move him," Legolas said softly. "Let him go."  
  
Laurelin shook her head fiercely.  
  
"No. I will never let go."  
  
"You must," Legolas persisted. "How would you like him to be remembered? We have to hold a burial, you know that. Leave him."  
  
"No."  
  
"Please, Laurelin, for Totholain. It is what he would want."  
  
Laurelin glanced at the general. He was dead. There was no way to bring him back; no way that she could ever feel his presence again. The sadness tore at her insides and left her with a hollow feeling. She tried to think what Totholain would do if he were in her position, but her brain was numb and fuzzy.  
  
She attempted to focus, but her mind blacked out and the last thing she saw was Legolas staring at her, his blue eyes extinguished. He was holding a sword covered in blood, and pulling it out of his side. She screamed, and then she knew no more. 


	11. Let Go

Author's Note: Sorry I killed Totholain. Necessary for the survival of the story, you know, since it is a tragedy.  
  
Chapter 11  
  
The rain poured and poured with no sign of stopping. Lizule stood in the rain, her black hair drenched with water. Throwing her hood up over her head, she made her way to the stables.  
  
All was quiet. She entered silently, as not to disturb the few horses that were resting. Almost all were standing still, their eyes glossed and unfocused.  
  
"Hi everyone," she said meekly. "Are you okay?" The horses lowered their heads; all life seemed to have drained out of them.  
  
"Gloried, how are you?" she said to the silver stallion. His coat had lost its shine, and was now very dull. He had not touched his food.  
  
"Oh, sweetheart, you need to eat sometime," she said to the mourning horse as she patted his neck.  
  
The stallion shifted his weight on to his other leg, completely ignoring the Elf. His eyes were in a faraway place, a sad, dreary place with no hope of recovery. He closed them and dropped his head.  
  
"It will be better soon," she said soothingly, her voice cracking, as she understood what would happen to the horse. "I promise," she croaked.  
  
She gave him one last comforting pat and left, her heart heavy. Totholain had been dead for two days, and life at Mirkwood had stopped abruptly. The chilly atmosphere was enough to drive anyone insane.  
  
Laurelin would not leave her room; the only person she would permit seeing was Legolas. Lizule knew that he was extremely upset at his wife's condition. Just yesterday, she had heard him yelling at Saris for not bringing in hot water on time. Lizule was surprised at his actions; he rarely got upset. It had made her very sad.  
  
"Just think, I was so happy three days ago because I got invited to leave for Rivendell. Now, I can not share my joyous news with anyone, for they would not want to listen to something happy. And neither do I," she thought, thinking of Glorfindel.  
  
Glorfindel had halted the training until the Elves recuperated from the loss of Totholain. He was stressed out, however, because Imladris needed the troops as soon as possible.  
  
Thranduil was going to appoint Legolas as the General of the Army, and when Laurelin heard of it, she would be stunned. Lizule's heart dropped at the realization. It would not be fair to her.  
  
She sighed and scanned the palace grounds. As she passed some houses, she saw that there were brightly-lit candles in the windows, signifying a grieving period.  
  
Lizule felt her eyes water. She hadn't been very familiar with Totholain; but he had always been nice to her. She could tell that he had meant a lot to Laurelin, almost more than Legolas himself.  
  
She shuddered slightly as a cold wind came through the palace courtyard. She decided that she should probably go back home and wait. That was the only thing she could do for Laurelin, anyway.  
  
****  
  
"We must hold a burial," the Healer, Finarain, said. "It is the best way to commemorate Totholain. Don't you agree?"  
  
Thranduil shrugged his shoulders. "Have one so soon? My daughter-in-law is still trying to comprehend Totholain has died and is never coming back. She does not handle grief very well, and a burial will just remind her of Totholain's death. Remember, her father left for Valinor too. I doubt she can take much more."  
  
"Then, my Lord, when do you propose we bury him? I can not preserve the body for a long time, you know."  
  
"I don't know, you're intelligent, you can think of something. Give me two weeks, okay?"  
  
Finarain groaned. "Fine. But in two weeks, I want a plan for the body." He bowed and exited.  
  
Thranduil dropped his head to his lap. Everything was going wrong. Laurelin was literally, sick, and Legolas was in a fit of rage. He felt that his whole world was crumbling down on top of him.  
  
"Totholain, why did you do it? Why? Why did you kill yourself? I know you did, you are the only one who can aim a sword so accurately to the heart. What happened?"  
  
~ She hurt Laurelin through me so that I could not and will not ever be able to tell her again. If I do try, I will die ~  
  
Those words haunted Thranduil.  
  
~ What did he mean by that? What drove him to kill himself? I know he was not like other Elf-lords, he held an extraordinary power in him. He was different.  
  
Like an Elf, but so unlike an Elf. More godly. Smarter. Older. Wait! How could he be older than any Elf? HE COULDN"T! So that must make him . an uh . um . Maiar? ~  
  
"That's it!" Thranduil shouted out loud. "He was a Maiar! Oh, how blind I was! How could I not see? He was a power, a spirit. That is why he did not die the first time coming in contact with Elbereth! So utterly foolish, Thranduil! He was right under you the entire time!"  
  
Thranduil stood up, his legs shaking from excitement.  
  
"I cannot believe this! I wonder if I should tell anyone?"  
  
Although his mind said yes, his heart said no. Thranduil pondered it for a while, and chose not to. He knew that telling some of the Elves might make matters worse. Totholain would not want anyone to know that he had been a spirit and not an Elf.  
  
Thranduil sat back down, trying to figure why Elbereth had stopped Totholain from saying something to Laurelin. He knew that it had something to do with Legolas's fate; that it was bad, and would not turn out all right in the end. But how horrendous could it get?  
  
~ Let me see. He could get seriously wounded or die. That is about it ~  
  
Thranduil gasped. Totholain's message was reading more clearly. Something horrible was going to happen to Legolas, and Laurelin would follow him. But what?  
  
Thranduil chose to wait it out. What else could he do? He was not a philosopher, nor did he have the gift of foresight. Thinking back to his conversation with Totholain, he could not go to Elrond, nor could he have Legolas and Laurelin leave Middle-earth; their time to depart had not yet been accounted for.  
  
"Just sit and wait, Thranduil. Just sit and wait," he said to himself.  
  
****  
  
* ~ ~ "Totholain, wait up!" Laurelin cried. " I am right behind you!" Laurelin ran faster, but she could not catch the general as he sped through the forest.  
  
"Totholain, please, wait!" she commanded. He paid no heed to her request and kept on going, slowly but surely drawing away from her.  
  
"Totho." she shrieked as she fell into a deep, dark hole. A sense of panic engulfed her as she tried in vain to climb out.  
  
"Totholain, help me!" she shouted, her voice tiny and weak.  
  
"Totholain!" ~ ~ *  
  
Laurelin blinked, clearing her eyes. Her own room came into focus, blurry and unshaped. She made out the body an Elf sitting next to her bed, watching her.  
  
~ Why am I here? Why am I not in Legolas's chambers, as usual? ~  
  
"My Lady," a glowing form of life sat down on her bed and patted her hand.  
  
"You have awaken from your shock."  
  
Laurelin stared at the handsome face; his forehead was lined with worry. The concern in his eyes gave her the strength to say,  
  
"My Angel. You're my Angel."  
  
The Elf laughed sadly.  
  
"No, I am not. Sorry. I am just Legolas, Prince of the Elves. Non more."  
  
"Legolas," she whispered. " I know your face. It gets more beautiful by the day."  
  
Legolas nodded, his throat closing up.  
  
"And yours, why, yours grows more lovely by the hour."  
  
Laurelin smiled weakly. "My Lord? He is gone, isn't he? Forever?" she said, her tears starting to flow once again.  
  
Legolas swallowed hard. "Yes, my love, forever."  
  
Laurelin bit her lip, absconding herself for crying in front of such a strong, valiant Elf. It was embarrassing.  
  
Legolas leaned forward and gently, oh so gently, kissed every part of her face so that her tears were washed away.  
  
Laurelin wrapped her hands around his neck, taking in his scent of evergreen trees. She clung to him, praying, hoping, that some comfort would make its way into her life.  
  
"I miss him so much," she sobbed, as Legolas ran his fingers through her golden hair, consoling her.  
  
"He was my salvation, my hope, my father. Now he is gone. And no matter what I do or say, he isn't coming home."  
  
Legolas hugged her fiercely; trying to let her know that he would be there for her, always. But he found it difficult to say, when he knew that he was leaving for Rivendell in Totholain's place.  
  
"Legolas, promise me you will never leave me. It is something that Totholain wanted, and it is something I want more than the world. Please, never leave me. Promise?"  
  
Legolas heaved a sigh. He had a duty to his kingdom as future King, and he had to fulfill that duty. But what about his promise to Laurelin? He had a duty to her, too, and he could not just abandon that. In his life, though, he was required to serve his realm before his love.  
  
Legolas drew away from their embrace and looked her in the eyes.  
  
Laurelin read the answer from his pensive stare.  
  
"NO!" she wailed, pounding him on the chest. "You can't go! How can Thranduil make you? I have lost one that I loved, I will not lose another!"  
  
"Shhhh, you will not lose me. I am a skilled fighter. I survived the War of the Ring, I believe I can survive this."  
  
"You don't understand! Totholain gave you so many warnings! He told you never to leave Mirkwood, he set it up so that you were not a general in the first place, and then, when he died, he said to me to never let you go! It all adds up! Something terrible is going to happen to you if you go to Rivendell! Don't you see?"  
  
Legolas shook his head.  
  
" I am sorry, I do not. Totholain might have been wise, but I do not believe what he said. Now why don't you get some rest? I know it is hard, but at least attempt to. I am not going anywhere soon, so you need not be so distressed, okay?"  
  
Laurelin snuggled back down in the bed, her face pale. She turned away from him and faced her pillow, trying to hide her disappointment. Legolas bent down towards her pointed ear and murmured,  
  
" Trust me. I will never leave you unless I am called by Mandos. And I do not think that is going to happen."  
  
Legolas rubbed the nape of her neck and stood up. He was at the door when Laurelin asked,  
  
"Why am I in my room?"  
  
Legolas chuckled. "Because you locked yourself in here."  
  
****  
  
Arodas snorted, pawing the ground. Unable to restrain his bottled energy, the dapple-grey stallion reared up and charged across the open plain. Legolas rode low, aiming for his target, a far-off tree, with one single acorn hanging from it. Stringing his bow, he waited for the precise moment to hit his mark.  
  
Arodas ran faster, his strides eating up the ground. Legolas watched carefully and released his arrow, letting it fly like the wind.  
  
It knocked the acorn right out of the tree. Legolas smiled faintly at his tiny success and stopped Arodas. The horse shook his head; he wanted to run some more.  
  
"That's a good boy," Legolas said. "You are just like your grandfather. Full of spirit and poise. You will serve me well in battle."  
  
Arodas was the grandson of Arod, a Rohan horse that Legolas had ridden during the War of the Ring. Eomer gave Arod to Legolas after the destruction of Sauron. Legolas remembered how grateful he had been to receive such a wonderful gift. Legolas relaxed on the horse's back, lost in his reveries.  
  
The stallion, sensing Legolas's rest, jumped forward, but Legolas was ready and held him back with only a few words. Arodas responded reluctantly to the Elf's request and slowed down to a halt.  
  
"I know you want to race, but I can't let you. You must be refreshed and ready for when we have to depart to Rivendell, if that is anytime soon, which I doubt."  
  
Arodas tossed his shiny black mane; he was not willing to leave the only home he knew.  
  
"I know it is difficult. But just think of all the exciting things we will be seeing! Forests, glorious forests, then there are the rivers and lakes, lots and lots of wild animals just waiting to be discovered, and Lord Elrond! It is a privilege to meet such a mighty Elf-lord. You should be thankful!"  
  
Secretly though, deep inside, Legolas did not want to leave. Totholain's death had hit Laurelin hard; she was even more depressed now knowing Legolas was going to be gone for a long time from Mirkwood.  
  
Arodas nickered sadly. He would go if Legolas was; but it made him terribly unhappy. The smart stallion knew that Legolas did not want to go either.  
  
Legolas patted his neck.  
  
"Thank you. I knew I could count on you. Right now, I think you are the only one who truly understands. But you see, I have a duty to my kingdom and to Middle-earth. I must go and fight, even though it makes me miserable."  
  
Arodas nuzzled Legolas's leg, showing that he comprehended what Legolas was saying. He started to walk, his hoof beats making little sound on the soft grass.  
  
"Whither are you taking us?" Legolas inquired. "We are not done with our training."  
  
The horse kept on walking. He raised his glorious head and whinnied.  
  
~ I am taking you home ~  
  
****  
  
Laurelin looked out her window. The sun was coming up, its thin rays casting hardly any light across the forest. The sky was low and foggy; the earth was brown and dead. The roses that grew beneath her balcony were lithe and possessed a pale, dull color. The birds sung sad songs, songs of days they had known better:  
  
How beautiful the day and night; The earth is singing in the wind, The voices rise and touch the sky Telling all the earth's believing, And in the night sighs fall down, And from the skies sighs fall down on me.  
  
And when I move away from view My voice is singing in the wind, It rises up to touch the sky Telling all that I believe in, And from the night earth shall sing, And from the night earth shall sing, And from the night earth shall sing again. Enya - deora ar mo chroi  
  
Laurelin sighed wistfully at the tone, even though she did not understand their songs. A gentle breeze ruffled her hair, billowing it out around her face. She brushed it aside, paying it no heed.  
  
"Totholain," she whispered, her words stopping at her throat.  
  
"Totholain, what happened? Who harmed you? I miss you so much. All I wish for is that I could hear your soothing voice again, just once more. That would be enough."  
  
The calm breeze was more persistent this time as it came through and was absorbed by her skin; Laurelin's teeth started to chatter because of the chill.  
  
She drew her shawl around her and stared out into the dark light of the sun. She hung her head in sorrow, feeling death's blow sink into her very soul. Death was victorious. All she could do was to let it win and get on with her life.  
  
Legolas entered Laurelin's room without making a sound. He came up gingerly behind her and enclosed his arms around her waist. Laurelin leaned back into his safe encompass, closing her eyes and releasing all bad thoughts. Legolas rested his chin on her shoulder as they both stared out into the gloom.  
  
"It is time to move on," she said quietly as she watched an eagle soar high in the grey sky. It stopped and hovered over the forest, and then it was gone.  
  
~ Totholain ~  
  
"Are you sure?" Legolas asked, frowning. "You are allowed to grieve."  
  
"Totholain wouldn't want me mourning about his death. He always said to live in the future, for you can't go back in the past. He would wish that I kept going, supporting you and the kingdom, for I am the Princess, much as it takes getting used to that title. I will proceed with my endless life, and so will you."  
  
~ Endless? How can you be so sure? ~  
  
"I do agree. Leave this anguish behind and make a new beginning. I like it."  
  
Laurelin smiled.  
  
"I knew you would. Now come on. I want to inquire Thranduil about holding a remembrance ceremony for Totholain, along with his burial. We must make haste, though. Come!"  
  
**** 


	12. Healing For All

Chapter 12  
  
"Glorfindel, I want to heal Gloried."  
  
Glorfindel scowled from his seat on a hay bale, where he was reading a book. He looked up, his face darkening slightly.  
  
"And how do you think you will succeed in this? He is much grieved and will not come out of it, even when I call him. Face it Lizule. He is a hopeless cause."  
  
"He was Totholain's horse. That gives him much prestige in the horse world. Oh why couldn't we just try? He is worth it."  
  
"I don't have time to fool with him. I have to get the training back on track in three days, which will leave me no time to try and recuperate a sick horse. Animals get ill all of the time and die; it is nothing new. We must accept it and move on."  
  
~ All of this is about moving on. Laurelin moving on, Legolas moving on, Glorfindel moving on. But I don't want to. I want to stay ~  
  
"If you will not help me, I will do it myself."  
  
"Look," Glorfindel said as he stood up. "I would love to assist you, but I cannot. Hearken! You must prepare for our departure and not be worried about a dying horse. Make sure you tell your family and friends that you are leaving. I am sure they don't know yet."  
  
"I will tell them, but I will also care for Gloried."  
  
Glorfindel groaned. "Suit yourself. He is going to take lots of hard work and patience. I hope you're up to it."  
  
Glorfindel closed his book and left the stables. Lizule clenched her fists as she glared after him.  
  
~ Thanks for your help, Glorfindel. Really ~  
  
Lizule entered Gloried's stall. The stallion was lying on the floor, his eyes open and his skinny sides heaving. Lizule sat down next to him and ran her fingers through his silky mane. Gloried raised his head, as if expecting Totholain to arrive any minute. When he didn't come, he laid his head back down and settled more deeply into the straw.  
  
Lizule's heart broke at the sight of the horse. She felt that she had to save him; she knew he was to be her mount for Rivendell.  
  
"I will heal you," she uttered quietly. "Just wait."  
  
****  
  
Laurelin gripped tightly on to Legolas's hand as she watched Totholain's body being prepared to be lowered into the ground. She tried to memorize his entire face: The jet-black hair, fair skin, reassuring smile, and those piercing dark eyes that would never open again. Laurelin felt a new sadness engulf her and she looked away from the body.  
  
Thranduil stood next to the hole, his head bowed as two Elves guarded him. He finally felt the shock that his father's trusted general was now dead. It hurt him in a way he could not understand. When his father had died, it was different. But why? Why did two deaths have different effects on a person? It did not make sense.  
  
Thranduil ran his hand along the sharp edge of Totholain's blade, seeking comfort. It was still sharp, but it had been cleaned, so no trace of blood was left on it.  
  
When Totholain's body was ready, he put the general's sword on his chest.  
  
Mornie alantie, my friend," Thranduil said, placing his hand on Totholain's brow. "You will not be here to see it reach its apex." {Darkness has fallen}  
  
Thranduil stepped back and motioned for Laurelin to come forward. She let go of Legolas's hand and walked up to the body.  
  
Totholain's hands were crossed, and he held his sword, just like if he was preparing for another battle. His face was emotionless, but it had a sense of relief on it that had not been present before.  
  
"He was a skilled fighter," Thranduil commented, turning to the crowd of Elves. "He will be remembered always."  
  
Laurelin wiped away a tear and kissed Totholain's cheek.  
  
"Namarie, my father. I shall let go." She squeezed the cold hand gently and backed away, focusing her gaze on the ground.  
  
Thranduil cleared his throat.  
  
"He will live on in each and every one of us. There is not one Elf here whom he did not do some good for. We will miss him and love him forever."  
  
Thranduil gave a slight flip of his wrist and the tomb was concealed.  
  
Laurelin's knees buckled and she fell to the dead earth. Legolas squatted down beside her.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
Laurelin nodded and took a breath. She gripped onto Legolas's outstretched hand and pulled herself up.  
  
"Let's go home."  
  
Legolas smiled and offered her his arm. She took it gladly and she left the burial site quickly, anxious to get rid of all the bad feelings she still had inside of her. Legolas increased his pace to match her own. He wanted get away too.  
  
The two Elves took off in the weak sun, racing each other to see who could get home faster.  
  
Naturally, Legolas arrived first, and waited for her by the gardens. She ran up huffing and puffing several moments later.  
  
"No fair," she panted. "You are in better shape than me."  
  
Legolas shrugged.  
  
"That's because I had to chase after two silly Hobbits who got captured by Orcs. Running all day WILL keep you in shape."  
  
"Sure." Laurelin sat down on a stone bench, her heart beating fast. She looked around at all the roses in the garden. Their color had returned; some white, some red, or some pink. But they still were limp and brittle, and did not posses their stunning quality they had had before.  
  
"These roses, they mourn. I wonder why. Totholain's death has passed; everything has gone back to normal. What is bothering them?"  
  
Legolas sat down next to her and took her hand.  
  
"Roses respond differently than we do to death. Unlike us, they hold the sadness of a death personally because they know not of the House of the Dead. Totholain's fea has traveled there, and I am sure he is enjoying his life very much. Since we realize this, we are not grieved as badly. But the roses don't know. All they comprehend is death is the end to life, not a beginning."  
  
"Well, you are quite the philosopher, my Lord. How do you know all this?"  
  
Legolas flinched at the question. Old wounds were about to be opened once again. He took a whiff of air and exhaled.  
  
"My mother taught me. She believed that everything and everyone had a soul and should be accounted for. I was intrigued by what she thought. So, I asked her to teach me."  
  
Laurelin nodded and rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
"I understand."  
  
****  
  
"Good-morning everyone, and welcome back to our training sessions. With the absence of Totholain, who worked with the horses, Lord Thranduil will be assisting you in that department. I will continue to do the sword fighting, Legolas the archery, and Isitur the hand-to-hand combat. Now break off into your appointed groups so we can get started," Glorfindel said with no emotion in his voice. He got off the platform and walked over to his horse.  
  
Glorfindel mounted up on his horse, Asfaloth, and took 125 Elves with him off into the woods. Legolas led his horse and the host of Elves to the archery range, which was close by. Thranduil's horse, a beautiful copper stallion, reared up a couple times, but soon calmed down when they started towards the forest. Isitur did not own a horse because horses were very scarce in Mirkwood. Instead, he stayed in the exact spot and started to teach the remaining Elves the principle of fighting on foot.  
  
Legolas stroked Arodas's mane as they came up to the archery range. He was quite nervous because now, he wasn't just helping these Elves, he was going to war with them. It made him feel queasy and uncertain of what to do. He turned his horse around and faced the Elves, not knowing what to say next.  
  
"Okay, this is what we are going to do. We will practice for an hour on foot, and then each of you will take turns riding my horse and hitting a target. I am going to gallop him so he isn't so frisky and hard to handle. After we are done with that, I will watch you string a bow and catch any mistakes you might make. Do you all understand?"  
  
125 Elves nodded their heads.  
  
"Good. Now line up and begin. We only have two hours to do this."  
  
The Elves followed his order quickly, and soon they were putting arrows up to their bows. Legolas watched them with satisfaction, and then rode off to the plain.  
  
Arodas seemed to know that he was going to be allowed to run. He pranced all of the way, shaking his head and half-rearing. Legolas spoke softly to the horse until they got up on a hill. The entire plain stretched before their eyes, just waiting to be run upon. Legolas closed his eyes and nudged the horse's sides. Arodas took off.  
  
His long strides enveloped the ground; sparks of dust sprang from his hooves. The horse's muscles rippled under his skin; making him shine like pure silver.  
  
The wind bit at Legolas's face, but he kept his eyes closed, feeling the horse move underneath him. The speed at which the horse went through life, with one, single footfall at a time, awed Legolas. He wished he could be as carefree as this horse that was racing the wind.  
  
Legolas felt like they were flying, away from all the problems, and into a new day.  
  
****  
  
"What?" Laurelin repeated, not sure if she understood what Lizule was saying.  
  
"I'm going to live with Glorfindel in Rivendell."  
  
"Have you gone insane?"  
  
"No. I love him, Laurelin. I love him more than life itself."  
  
~ Even though he won't help me heal Gloried ~  
  
"He is a Noldor. You are Silvan. It'll never work."  
  
"We will make it work. He has a high cast with the Eldar; I am sure he could convince them," Lizule said, her face coloring slightly. Why couldn't Laurelin be happy for her? She had finally found someone who she could spend the rest of eternity with. That would be enough to make anyone smile.  
  
Laurelin groaned. "Another one I love, leaving me? Totholain is gone, Legolas is heading for Imladris, and now you too? Why me?"  
  
"I am sorry to cause you any unneeded heartbreak. But I am leaving, and I have a favor to ask of you."  
  
"Ask away," Laurelin mumbled, putting her head in her lap. "I can't stop you, so I may as well help you." "I need a horse."  
  
"Uh. okay. What horse would you like?"  
  
"That is the problem. I want Gloried."  
  
Laurelin sat up with a jolt.  
  
"What? He is dying, Lizule. He is beyond our reach now; we cannot help him. Better let him join Totholain in the House of the Dead and not stay here and suffer."  
  
"I am going to heal him."  
  
"The only people who could heal Gloried are Elrond, Totholain, and maybe Glorfindel. Glorfindel is way too busy, so you are out of luck with him. Totholain is dead, and Elrond, well, he lives in Rivendell! It is a hopeless situation, Lizule."  
  
"Nevertheless, I would like him to be my mount. Will you grant my wish?"  
  
"If you can make him as healthy as Arodas, well, then, of course."  
  
"Thank you, my Lady. I will not fail you."  
  
Lizule bowed and ran for the exit.  
  
"Who else have you told?"  
  
Lizule stopped and turned around.  
  
"My parents, Thranduil, Legolas, and Retkia. I wanted to tell you last because, well, I didn't want to rest the sadness on you longer than it had to."  
  
"Do they all support you?"  
  
Lizule nodded. "Every single one."  
  
Lizule bowed again and left hastily.  
  
Laurelin sighed and stood up, blinking her eyes hard. She couldn't believe it.  
  
~ They are all crazy ~  
  
****  
  
Retkia glanced out the window of her home. Gabriel would be coming home any minute from his training and she wanted everything to be ready. She adjusted the straps on her purple gown one last time and glanced around the house; making sure all was in order. The candles, pillows, presents, food, and wine were set. Now all she had to do was wait.  
  
She didn't wait long. She spotted him outside walking beside Legolas, talking about something. They stopped, and from what Retkia could see is that they were having a very heated conversation.  
  
"You don't think she should go?" Legolas said, raising the tone in his voice.  
  
"It's not that. I am happy she has found someone to love; she of all people deserved it. What I am saying is that the Valar would not approve of a Noldor and Silvan making love. They are not open-minded, and no one could probably convince them to understand."  
  
Legolas frowned. " I seem to recall a night a long time ago when we all went up to the meadow for a picnic. You remember what happened then, don't you?"  
  
Gabriel blushed. "Yes, I do."  
  
"Do you think the Valar would be open minded about that?"  
  
"Oh, stop it, Legolas. I know they wouldn't be. That is why Retkia and I never did it again. We just got married."  
  
"Perfect solution."  
  
Gabriel glared. "You want to settle this?" he said, drawing his sword.  
  
Legolas arched his eyebrows. He hadn't meant to come across mean, but he was upset with Gabriel not supporting Lizule through the tough times. It was the least she deserved, and Gabriel was not willing to give it.  
  
He sighed and withdrew his own sword, the sword he had fought with at Helm's Deep. Old memories flooded through him of the Orcs, and Haldir's death.  
  
Legolas's eyes blazed.  
  
"You first, my Lord," Gabriel said stiffly. Although both Elves were the same in height, one held the wisdom and the grace of the Valar that the other didn't.  
  
Legolas nodded and circled the Elf, calling back all of his skills that had left him.  
  
~ Trust your instinct, Legolas. That is what kept you alive ~  
  
Legolas halted abruptly and closed his eyes, connecting with the ground beneath his feet, the sword in his hand. They were one, and would prove their point to the other.  
  
~ For Totholain. For the impossible ~  
  
Gabriel, thinking Legolas was resting, sprang forward, but Legolas caught him with an incredible force that he did not expect. The momentum nearly pushed Gabriel off his feet. He recovered quickly and threw himself at Legolas.  
  
Legolas stepped back and ducked. He brought his sword up and down, clashing it together with the other sword.  
  
~ It is just you and the sword. You and the sword ~  
  
Legolas watched Gabriel's movements carefully, looking for the right moment to seize his victory. Legolas drowned out the rest of the world, concentrating on the one single thing that would grant him success. He soon got it.  
  
Legolas whipped his sword around and knocked Gabriel's sword out of his hand. Gabriel fell to the ground, stunned. Legolas grimaced slightly and picked up the sword. He walked over to Gabriel and dropped it next to him.  
  
Legolas then sheathed his sword and left, his cloak billowing out behind him. Retkia ran out of her house and bolted towards Gabriel.  
  
"Are you okay?" she said, as she took his hand to help him stand up.  
  
A crowd had formed and was blurting out questions like, "Did that hurt?'  
  
"What made him mad?"  
  
"Prince Legolas is one of the best sword fighters around here. He was trained by Totholain, you know."  
  
"I know!" Gabriel yelled, as pushed through the crowd, clutching his bleeding hand.  
  
"Let's go back to the house." Retkia nodded and bent down and picked up Gabriel's sword. The handle was cracked open.  
  
She shook her head and followed her husband into the house.  
  
Once inside, she went to work on fixing Gabriel's wound. She poured some hot water along with herbs onto a washcloth and applied it gently to the cut. Gabriel sat quietly.  
  
"I was so foolish to challenge him. Of course he would win!" Retkia bit her lip, not knowing what to say. She wanted to show him her surprise, but it didn't seem the right time to do that.  
  
"Well, you learn from experiences. Next time you won't anger him, I guess." She dabbed his hand, getting rid of the blood that had continued to seep out of the wound.  
  
"Me, anger him? Oh, let's just say it was the other way around. I was the one who got upset. Not him. Perfect Legolas. He never gets angry at anyone."  
  
"Not true." Gabriel and Retkia looked up to see Laurelin standing in their doorway. She was wearing a blue gown, which cascaded down to the floor. Her crown was sparkling; and a long sash wound itself around her waist.  
  
"He does get mad sometimes. It is quite frustrating."  
  
Gabriel got up and bowed.  
  
"I am sorry, my Lady. I know he is leaving in a week and you are sad. I should not have fought him. That was unwise."  
  
"I accept your apology. Legolas usually doesn't like to fight; it is not a part of him. He is an assassin, but not to his friends. He loves you both very much and would never deliberately harm you."  
  
She made her way over to a chair and sat down. Her dress brushed the floor in an almost dreary fashion. Her face was pale and lifeless, with no hope.  
  
Retkia swallowed.  
  
"My Lady, why are you wearing this, this, outfit?"  
  
Laurelin smiled faintly.  
  
"Legolas and I are going horseback riding tonight; once he has dressed and eaten. This gown matches Galada's color so perfectly, well, I could not resist wearing it."  
  
"Uh, I see," Retkia stammered.  
  
Laurelin shrugged and looked around the house. Noticing the presents and the food, she asked,  
  
"Who are all those things for?"  
  
Retkia smiled nervously and turned to Gabriel.  
  
"I, um, got them for you, Gabriel. A going away present in a sort of way, even though you are not leaving for another week, I still wanted to get you something."  
  
Gabriel's face lit up as he too, also observed the gifts and assortments of bread and wine. He took his wife's hand and said softly,  
  
"Thank you."  
  
**** 


	13. Saying Goodbye

Chapter 13  
  
"Come on Gloried, please, eat the herbs," Lizule said patiently to the horse. The stallion was standing, and some shine was back in his coat, thanks to Lizule's frequent grooming. But other than that, the malnourished horse wouldn't eat, nor would he leave his stall. Time was running out if Lizule wanted him to be her mount. She had exactly one week to cure him.  
  
"Gloried, please, come on, it is getting late. I fear the dark," she said, raising the Athelas plant up to his muzzle. The stallion sniffed it and turned his head. He did not want to be healed of his pain.  
  
Lizule groaned and dropped her hand. She was getting nowhere.  
  
"Maybe I should try a new approach," she wondered. "But what?"  
  
Gloried rested his left hind leg, wondering when she was going to leave. He appreciated her efforts, but he was too grieved to pay attention to them. Totholain was dead. Why couldn't these Elves understand that? They seemed to have gotten over his murder very quickly, with no questions asked. The stallion disapproved.  
  
Lizule ran her hand through his silver mane.  
  
"Why won't you try? Try for Totholain? Gloried, he would want you to live, not linger on in sadness and in doubt. Won't you do it for Totholain?"  
  
~ Totholain is the only one who can ride me. Totholain is the only one who can heal me. Totholain is the only one who can understand me ~  
  
"But can I understand you?"  
  
Gloried blinked hard. Had he heard correct? The stallion scanned the stables, but there was no sign of the Elf.  
  
"Give her a chance. She is the only Elf that will ever truly care for you now. Give her a chance."  
  
Gloried sighed. He didn't want to let this Elf-girl care for him, but if Totholain willed it, then he would allow her. He grudgingly took the Athelas plant out of her hand and ate it. Lizule's face lit up. She patted his neck encouragingly.  
  
"That's a boy! I knew you would come around sooner or later."  
  
Gloried rolled his eyes.  
  
~ How about later? Much later ~  
  
****  
  
"It is so peaceful," Laurelin commented as she looked around the forest. All was silent except for their horse's footfalls.  
  
Legolas nodded. "I know."  
  
Laurelin turned towards him. "So where are you taking me, anyway?"  
  
Legolas smiled as he arranged Arodas's mane on the other side of his neck.  
  
"Somewhere special."  
  
"I know that. Have I been there before?"  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
They rode on in silence, Laurelin in her own thoughts, and Legolas in his. It wasn't until some time later they broke for a clearing. Laurelin gasped.  
  
"A waterfall!" she shrieked. A beautiful pond lay out before them, with water streaming down upon it from the rocks. Water lilies danced on the surface, and the clear water gleamed in the descending sun. All around the pond were beds of evergreen leaves and flowers. Laurelin sat stiffly, stunned by the earth's magnificence.  
  
"Why have I not seen this place before?"  
  
Legolas shrugged. "I am the only one who ever knew about it. I have not been here for a while, with the war going on. I'd thought I would share it with you before I leave."  
  
"It's gorgeous."  
  
They dismounted and led their horses down to the pond. Laurelin took of Galada's bridle and let her free. The mare whinnied and ran off to race with Arodas in the never-ending grass. She watched the two horses fly over the earth and disappear from view.  
  
"They are so happy," she said sadly to Legolas as she sat down next to him. " I wish I could forget everything that bad happened and just run and be free."  
  
She turned to him. "It doesn't have to be this way. You can stay here. No one is making you go."  
  
"Laurelin, you know I have a duty to my kingdom. I would not be acting as a Prince if I did not serve them justly."  
  
"So? There are other Elves who could be generals. You don't have to go."  
  
Laurelin could not stop the bad feelings that were enveloping her. It was like a plaque, a horrible disease that there was no cure. Something horrible was going to happen to Legolas if left. Why couldn't he understand that?  
  
"Aye, but that is where you are wrong. I have to go on account of myself. Please try to understand. I know it is difficult, but try."  
  
Laurelin laid down in the leaves, letting their scent refresh her. The sky was turning black, and little white stars came out, twinkling in the moonlight. She lied in the grass for a while; reminiscing on Totholain and how much she really did miss him, but just didn't show it. Finally she sat up. She wanted to escape those memories.  
  
"We really should be going. It will be pitch dark soon, and we will be unable to find Galada and Arodas."  
  
Legolas didn't move from his spot in the grass. "I am sure they are keeping each other company. Good company."  
  
"Funny. I cannot afford my mare to get into a serious relationship. I might need her for something."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like to follow you after you when you leave. I don't think I could live without you for so long."  
  
"Laurelin, It'll take like, two weeks at the most to rid of the Balrog and the Orcs. I will be back in a month maximum. You need to stay here and be a Princess. That is what you are and that is your job. You are staying."  
  
Laurelin stood up. "I am going home."  
  
Legolas sprang to his feet.  
  
"Why? Tomorrow is an off day for the troops, which means an off day for me."  
  
"I should go see Lizule. I am sure she is still a little unsure of her decision."  
  
Legolas grabbed her hand.  
  
"No. Please don't leave."  
  
"My Lord, I can do what I wish. I would now like for you to let go of me."  
  
Pain flashed across Legolas's eyes. He let her hand go and backed away towards the pond. Laurelin turned and fled, searching for her horse.  
  
After much turmoil, she found the mare in a small field underneath a tree. Laurelin crept closer and saw that her and Arodas were standing side by side, nuzzling each other's face. Fresh tears pulled at Laurelin's eyes as she realized the love that they both shared. She couldn't bear to break them apart. She silently left, leaving them in peace.  
  
As she made her way back to Legolas, she tried to work up some sort of an apology. She had hurt him by not wanting to be with him, and she knew he was deeply troubled. Laurelin spotted the glimmering pond through the tree branches and worked her way through them. She got out of the forest and under the moonlit sky.  
  
She then saw that Legolas was in the pond, running his golden hair under the waterfall. His eyes were closed so he did not see her approach. She stepped silently around the beds of grass, careful not to get her gown caught. She watched him closely, observing the curve of his body, the breadth of his chest, the shape of his muscles. He dipped his head back and shook his hair free of water, sending droplets through the dark mist.  
  
Laurelin gulped. She had never seen him in such an angelic form before. His hair, which cascaded down his bare body, glinted in the moonlight. He gave off a radiance of light that was blinding.  
  
"Legolas," she said, her voice shaking, "I'm sorry."  
  
Legolas spun around slowly, following the direction of her voice. He opened his eyes, which were dripping with water.  
  
Laurelin shifted her feet uncomfortably, trying to rid herself of her repulsive thoughts. If he hadn't been mad at her, she would have run into the pool at that precise moment.  
  
"I sincerely am sorry."  
  
Legolas nodded.  
  
"I accept your apology," he said, with little meaning in his voice. He then stepped back under the waterfall and shut his eyes.  
  
Laurelin's heart sank. He truly was dispirited. Trying to think of some smart plan, she stood by the water's edge like a fool, fumbling about what to say next. Legolas, who didn't even recognize her presence, continued to bathe in the waterfall, letting all of the day's tension drain from his weary shoulders.  
  
Laurelin sat down and stuck her feet in the pond. She ran her hand along its clear surface, thinking of Totholain and how much she missed him. She didn't want to have let go, but she knew she had to have done it sooner or later. Laurelin felt so dreary after a while that she stood and decided to leave. She would walk home. Picking up her sash, which had fallen to the ground, she made her way through the grass, her head low.  
  
"Don't go anywhere yet." Laurelin froze at Legolas's tone. She turned quickly around. Legolas was still in the pond, but his eyes were closed. "Come here."  
  
"But my dress."  
  
"No matter. I can have it repaired."  
  
Laurelin tentatively lifted her gown and waded into the pond. The dress started to sap in the water and made it hard to walk. Nevertheless, Laurelin reached him and leaned herself on a cold stone.  
  
"Yes, my Lord?" Only then did Legolas open his intensive blue eyes, and stared right at her.  
  
Laurelin swallowed hard. "You wanted me?"  
  
~ Do not think like this, Laurelin. Do not think like this ~  
  
"Yes. I wish to tell you something."  
  
"What is it?" Laurelin asked, pretty sure what the answer to her question would be.  
  
Legolas looked at her, wondering at her natural beauty. How could she make herself look so good no matter what? It amused him profoundly.  
  
With one quick movement, he brought her into his arms and lowered his mouth to kiss her. Laurelin turned her head; she didn't feel like doing anything at that exact moment.  
  
She clung to him, her gown sopping wet with water, and all she could think of is that he was leaving her, leaving her for some time, no matter how long it may be.  
  
"You can't leave me," she whimpered, her eyes blinking back tears. "How can you leave me?"  
  
Legolas's face crumpled. He started to tremble violently and nearly dropped her. Laurelin reached up and tucked a stray lock of blond hair behind his pale face, and ran her hand along his cheek tenderly. She didn't mean to upset him.  
  
"I still love you though. It is okay." She raised her head up and kissed him longingly. Legolas returned the kiss, but it was in a tired sort of way. Laurelin pushed his hair back off of his face and pulled away.  
  
"See?" she said, in an effort to cheer him up. "It'll be all right." Legolas shook his head and placed her cautiously back in the water.  
  
"For me, maybe, but not for you. I hate to leave you here, you know. It hurts me like you will never know."  
  
Laurelin gasped. She had never taken into consideration that it might have wounded him to see her hurting.  
  
"I am sorry," she said, her voice cracking. "I never realized." Legolas stopped her short.  
  
He pulled her close and with one soft whisper said,  
  
"You can make it up to me now."  
  
Laurelin smiled faintly.  
  
"Of course my Lord," she murmured softly.  
  
****  
  
Retkia smiled and poured the wine into the goblet. Gabriel raised his glass and took a sip, savoring the taste.  
  
"It's great," he said as he placed the cup back down. He leaned back into their couch, which was made of soft feathers. He sighed and closed his eyes. Retkia picked up the glasses and took them to the kitchen. When she came back, Gabriel had all of her candles lit and was lying down, his back turned to her.  
  
Retkia bent down next to him and ran her fingers through his hair. Gabriel turned and grinned at her.  
  
"Yes?" he said, arching his eyebrows. "You want something?"  
  
"No. Do you want something?'  
  
"My going away gift, please."  
  
"Oh that. Well, I am not fully prepared. yet. I will adjust the certain apparel and then be back."  
  
"Okay. Don't take too long."  
  
Retkia got up and went to their bedroom. Taking off the overcoat to her gown, she revealed the thin fabric beneath. Retkia combed her hair, letting it fall flat across her face. She then dropped her cloak to the dress and proceeded back to their main room. Gabriel has his eyes shut and his hands across his chest. Retkia knocked softly on the doorframe, chuckling slightly.  
  
Gabriel raised his eyes and took in the full sight of her.  
  
~ Wow ~  
  
"Where is the present?" he said, looking around as if expecting it to appear out of nowhere. He could not help noticing that she was wearing just enough clothing to call her modestly outfitted.  
  
Retkia laughed. "I am the present."  
  
"Sounds good to me. Come over here so I may inspect my gift."  
  
Retkia nodded walked stealthily across the hard oak floor, the tiny silver bells on her dress jingling. She sat down beside him and rested her head in his shoulder.  
  
Gabriel sat up and scrutinized her closely, all the while holding her hand in his.  
  
"I guess it'll work. I was expecting something a little bit more." Retkia placed one finger to his lips.  
  
"Shhhh," she warned. "You cannot think such loathsome thoughts. It is unwise."  
  
"I don't care about wisdom. Legolas is mad, so I would rather think of different things. Like right now, I want my present to be given to me please, if it is not too much trouble."  
  
Retkia shook her head. "Not at the very least," she said, as she leaned in to kiss him.  
  
****  
  
"Good boy, Gloried. That's it, just take your time. You are doing great," Lizule coaxed to the horse as she casually led him out into the sunshine. The stallion had snorted and shrunk back many times, but with her endless encouragement and patience, she finally had him out in the palace courtyard.  
  
Gloried jerked his head up as he absorbed everything that was happening. He sniffed the air cautiously; it smelled different for some unknown reason. Trembling, the horse stepped forward, not trusting the ground beneath him.  
  
"See, you got it. That's all you have to do. Nothing has changed."  
  
~ No, you are wrong, Lizule. Lots of things have changed ~  
  
Lizule patted his neck and went around to the side of him. She took a deep breath.  
  
"Will you let me ride you?" she said, glancing at the horse questionably. "I understand if you won't, but the further we get today the farther we get tomorrow. We have two days left, you know."  
  
Gloried tossed his mane and bent down on his knees. The medicine of the Athelas plant had healed him very fast; he had gained a lot of weight over an extremely short period of time.  
  
Lizule smiled and grabbed hold of his mane as she mounted him. The stallion stood up and glanced back and forth, not knowing exactly where to go.  
  
"Let's just go on a nice, short trail ride. That should be enough for you today."  
  
Gloried walked forward in response to her leg aids, noticing how much lighter she was than Totholain had been. Although she was not as skilled of a rider, she still had a talent for communicating with horses. The stallion gave her that much recognition.  
  
Lizule talked calmly to the horse, and soon they were on their way to ride the trails. A new sense of excitement overwhelmed Lizule as they faded into the trees, lost in the never-ending green.  
  
**** 


	14. For Salvation

Chapter 14  
  
Glorfindel looked out over the descending sunset. Today would be the day. They were leaving for Imladris. All was prepared. Horses had been picked and given to most of the Elves; the only horse that was staying was Galada. Armor has been found and suited for each individual Elf of the army. Now, the only thing that was holding them back was Glorfindel himself.  
  
The Noldor Elf sighed and turned to his own armor, which was made of plain gold in the shape of Lothlórien leaves. How he missed that place. It reminded him briefly of Gondolin, his beloved home before it was destroyed.  
  
Glorfindel put on his undergarments and then dressed in the mail. He tied his long, white cloak around his neck and fastened it with the brooch of Rivendell. He then took his sword and placed it in his sheath, admiring its glitter even in the dark.  
  
Glorfindel stood in front of his mirror and pulled out a beautiful necklace from beneath his tunic. He fingered the familiar shape of the Evenstar, memorizing its curves and glitches. Arwen's necklace caught a few of the weak rays that were coming in from the sun, and transferred the light throughout the room.  
  
"Today is a new day," he said calmly to himself. "Time will tell the story."  
  
****  
  
Lizule led Gloried out into the dusk. The stallion was shining like a spark of silver. The horse bore grace and pride in every step; his muscles rippled under his skin. He raised his head and pricked up his ears, showing that he was indeed alive and ready to go off to war. Lizule stroked his mane while chewing on her bottom lip nervously. She was petrified of leaving her home.  
  
All of the Elves around her were saying good-bye to their families and promising that they would be back soon. Lizule hoped that that would be true for every single one of them. She led Gloried over to a tree stump and mounted up. She then joined Gabriel who was saying farewell to Retkia.  
  
Meanwhile, Laurelin was in the garden, her eyes downcast and face full of sadness. Legolas was leaving her, and something horrible might happen to him. It scared her beyond belief.  
  
She sat down on a stone bench and admired the beauty of the roses once again. They seemed to have finally gotten over Totholain's death and gone on with their lives. The question was, could Laurelin do the same?  
  
"Totholain," she whispered. "It would be so much easier if you hadn't died," she said, and then she laid her head in her lap and wept.  
  
"Laurelin."  
  
She jerked her head up and saw that Legolas was sitting upon Arodas, looking more handsome then ever. He was wearing silver armor in the like of Glorfindel's, but he bore the brooch of Mirkwood. His sword, which had proved him right so many times, was hanging from his belt. The bow and quiver of the Lady Galadriel was on his back, along with his own two knives. His crown was gone, but his hair was shining in the weak light.  
  
Arodas was almost as magical looking as his master. He was bearing a sliver bridle, which was intertwined with green stems and leaves. His saddle was wrought of the most expensive mithril available, signifying that he was the mount of the Prince of Mirkwood. The kind horse's eyes were fierce, and blazed with an invisible fire. He shook his long, black mane to get it out of his face.  
  
Laurelin stopped crying. This was her husband. He was a deadly warrior, and would kill any that stood before him and questioned his authority. For a moment, she was quite frightened.  
  
"Why do you cry?" he asked as he steadied his frisky horse. "I told you I will be back."  
  
Laurelin stood and walked over to them. She ran her hand along Arodas's coat; it felt like silk.  
  
"Totholain warned you," she said softly. "His predictions were always correct."  
  
"For you maybe, but he faltered on this one. I will come back. I will hold my promise in the rose I gave you so long ago. I give you my word."  
  
Laurelin nodded, but a couple tears squeezed out of her eyes, and she wiped them away hastily.  
  
~ The Rose. The Rose will tell you his fate ~  
  
She backed up to let Legolas pass and join the rest of the army, but Legolas did not move Arodas forward. He sat silently and then said,  
  
"I love you." He beckoned her to come next to him.  
  
He took her hand and bent down from his seat and kissed her. Laurelin closed her eyes, trying to savor the kiss, to make it last for as long as needed. But when he sat back up, Laurelin had already lost the magic of it.  
  
"I ride for the salvation of the Elvish race," he said. "It is time to redeem ourselves."  
  
With one final wave, he clucked to his horse and cantered out of the garden. Laurelin followed at a much slower pace, dreading that she had many more good-byes to make.  
  
****  
  
"Be safe and stay out of trouble," Laurelin warned Lizule. "It is a dangerous world out there."  
  
Lizule nodded, her throat closing up with tears. She gave her friend a hug, knowing that she would never see her again. The pain was close to unbearable.  
  
"You did a fine job with Gloried," Laurelin commented, trying to make the other Elf feel better. "Totholain would be proud."  
  
"I think I am not worthy to ride such a magnificent beast, but I am glad that I could heal him to the best extent of my knowledge."  
  
"You are just as worthy as Totholain was. You have a special gift with animals, Lizule. Use it."  
  
Lizule nodded and wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by the blast of a trumpet.  
  
"Prepare for departure in five minutes." Elves finished up their good-byes and reported to their position.  
  
Lizule reined Gloried away from her friend and dipped her head, her heart heavy. She had said so many good-byes, it was making her brain hurt. She rode up beside Glorfindel, who was talking to Isitur and Legolas. She tapped him gently on the shoulder.  
  
"Excuse me, my Lord, but where am I to ride?" Glorfindel turned to her and when he saw her mounted on Gloried, his eyes widened. The horse looked exactly in the state he was before Totholain's death.  
  
"You can ride next to me. Legolas and Isitur will be behind us, if that is okay. You don't mind being up in front, do you?"  
  
"No, not at all." Lizule positioned Gloried next to Asfaloth. She blinked her eyes a couple times; Asfaloth was blinding to the eyes because of his radiance.  
  
Glorfindel steadied his horse and scanned the forest. They had to get started soon, before the sun set even lower behind the clouds. It was getting dark.  
  
Laurelin gazed at the array of color. Glorfindel bore gold, Legolas and Isitur bore silver, the horse-riders bore bronze, and the Elves that were walking bore copper. The color blended together to create a blazing light that hurt the eyes. Along with Asfaloth's whiteness, it reminded her of the war that the Valar had fought against Melkor so long ago. No Elf had been there, for the race of Elves had not been created yet, but she had heard tales and stories of that war. It was said to have been very spectacular.  
  
Glorfindel took his sword and raised it high in the air. The time had now come.  
  
"To war!" he cried as his horse reared up on its hind legs, pawing the air. The stallion came down and took off, the rest of the legion following them. Laurelin trained her stare on Legolas as he rode into the trees, praying that she would see him again.  
  
****  
  
Lizule took off Gloried's saddle and bridle. The stallion shook his head to get rid of the feeling of the bridle. He then lowered his muzzle and began to munch on some dry grass that surrounded the path that they were taking through the woods. Lizule sighed and laid the riding gear on a tree branch and sat down, her legs weary. They had been riding non-stop for the last four days. The only time Glorfindel did let them rest was when the Elves that were walking had needed it.  
  
She cringed as she stretched out her foot. The aching in it was enough to drive anyone insane.  
  
"Maybe I should have never agreed to come on this trip," she thought. "I could have stayed home."  
  
Lizule leaned back against a tree, trying to rid herself of her discomfort. The only female in the whole army, she would have thought that someone was bound to notice her.  
  
But it was not so. All of the He-Elves were eating their meals, oblivious to the fact that a maiden was in too much pain to share their food with them.  
  
"Aren't you going to eat something?" Glorfindel said as he approached her. He bent down and put his hand on her forehead. "You look famished."  
  
Lizule groaned. "Don't you realize, my Lord, that I am in excruciating pain? My leg muscles are very sore."  
  
Glorfindel arched his eyebrows. "I believe I can fix that." Standing up, he went over to his saddlebags, which were still on Asfaloth. He got out a piece of bread from it and gave it to her.  
  
"Lembas bread," he said, as she stared at it questionably. "It gives one strength and it heals the aches of riding."  
  
Lizule ate the bread and felt a sense of renewal flow through her. She got up, her legs shaking. She placed a hand on Glorfindel's shoulder to steady herself.  
  
"Feel better now?" he asked, his eyes penetrating through her skin.  
  
She nodded and he led her over to the arrangement of food. She sat down next to Legolas, ignoring the stare of the other Elves. She closed her eyes, wishing she was back home.  
  
"Are you okay?" Legolas inquired of her. "You seem lost." Lizule shrugged, but she didn't open her eyes.  
  
"I'm fine. I just miss all of my friends and of course, Mirkwood."  
  
"I know what you mean. When I went to the Council of Elrond as a messenger for my father, I never dreamed I would not see him again for a year and a half."  
  
Lizule nodded. She understood how he felt. They were going off to Imladris, and she was not coming back to her birth home. She was scared. Thinking of something to help dispose of her thoughts, she said,  
  
"What is Lord Elrond like?'  
  
Legolas smiled as he passed her a loaf of bread. "You will see for yourself soon enough."  
  
****  
  
"Let's go, everyone. We have no time to spare," Glorfindel reprimanded to the group.  
  
Lizule groaned and stood up. She didn't know if she could take much more. Tossing her leftover bread aside, she glared at him, her hands on her hips.  
  
"Glorfindel," she pleaded, her stare never leaving his face. "We are tired and worn out. I demand that you let us rest for the night. The horses need it, and so do the soldiers."  
  
Glorfindel scowled. "We can't afford to rest. Rivendell will be under attack soon. We must make as much haste as possible." Without another word, he mounted up on Asfaloth. The spirited horse looked like he could go for about one more day, but that was it.  
  
Lizule made a face and went over to Gloried.  
  
"Sorry, boy," she murmured. "I know you are exhausted." She put the saddle and bridle on him and swung up on his back. The horse shifted his weight, showing he was not willing to gallop anymore.  
  
"Please, Gloried, for me," she told him. The stallion shook his mane with disapproval. He grudgingly joined the rest of the lineup.  
  
Glorfindel scanned the army to make sure all the Elves were on their horses. He then clucked to Asfaloth and they were off.again.  
  
For the first part of the trip, Lizule focused on different things, other than the pain in her leg. But she soon found it impossible to divert her attention. She gritted her teeth and rode on.  
  
After many hours, they broke for a clearing. The moon cast soft light across the ground.  
  
"We are out of Mirkwood Forest," Glorfindel cried. Most of the legion gave a shout of glee, but Lizule pouted. Before they rode off, she stopped Gloried and turned back to the woods. Never again would she see those woods. Never again would she see her home. She bit back a sob and nudged Gloried in the side. She must keep going.  
  
Legolas gripped onto Arodas's mane. The Prince was starting to fully understand what Lizule was talking about. He missed Laurelin more than anything.  
  
"Hurry, boy," he said to the horse. "The faster we get there, the faster we can leave."  
  
Arodas snorted and picked up his pace. He wanted to go home too. Legolas watched Glorfindel in front of him, noticing his position for the first time. The Noldor Elf sat tall and proud, as if no weariness or sadness was upon him. Legolas didn't know how his thoughts couldn't be consumed by something.  
  
Legolas glanced over at Gabriel. He was spacing out on his horse, looking at all of the scenery about them. Legolas saw that his right hand was bandaged fully in a white cloth.  
  
~ That's where I wounded him ~  
  
Legolas pulled Arodas next to Gabriel's horse.  
  
"How is your hand?"  
  
Gabriel didn't even acknowledge him with a nod.  
  
"Fine, my Lord," he said shortly. "Just fine. Retkia fixed it up so it would not obstruct me from riding."  
  
"I see."  
  
Gabriel turned his head away; he obviously did not want to talk to the Prince at that moment.  
  
Legolas moved Arodas back into position, giving up attempts to communicate with the moody Elf.  
  
~ I do not want to be here ~  
  
****  
  
Laurelin ran her hand along the soft petals of her rose. It had been exactly two weeks since Legolas left. Her heart was heavy and she was full of sadness.  
  
~ The Rose. The Rose will tell you his fate ~  
  
Those last words of Totholain kept on popping up inside of her head again and again. She could not stop the thoughts from coming. It haunted her day and night. There was no escaping.  
  
Laurelin got up and went over to Legolas's chair. She sat down, letting his scent overwhelm her breathing. She remembered the first time she had sat in that chair. It had been on their wedding night.  
  
~ Totholain was still alive ~  
  
It seemed so long ago. She had been intimidated then; intimidated by the idea of having to do something she was not sure she could do. But now, she knew she could. The fact was, she couldn't.  
  
Laurelin closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. In and out, in and out. The pattern of life. There was no stopping it.  
  
Her mind drifted back to when she had lived with Totholain in his house. The days had been happy ones then, even though her mother had died. 


	15. Confusion

Chapter 15  
  
Glorfindel motioned to Legolas and Isitur.  
  
"In order to get into Imladris, we must go around the southern part of our borders and sneak in. There are Orcs all around this place, so it is imperative that we are as quick and silent as possible."  
  
Legolas and Isitur nodded. They started to break the army into three sections; separating them by rank. When everyone was prepared, they headed out of the forest and broke for the clearing.  
  
Lizule stayed close next to Glorfindel. She had never seen or met an Orc, and from Glorfindel's attitude, she guessed that they were extremely dangerous.  
  
Gloried, however, didn't seem scared at the least. The proud horse took long strides and held his head high, arching his neck. Lizule fiddled with his mane out of nervousness when she came into the clearing and took in the full sight of Rivendell. It wasn't beautiful how Glorfindel had described. It was dark and gloomy, with little or no magic surrounding it. The trees were limp and brittle; the ground was soft and patchy. Lizule did not understand. She looked around at the other members of her group. None of them seemed surprised at Imladris's condition.  
  
Gloried sniffed the air and halted, his body trembling slightly. He felt something coming.  
  
"Whoa, boy," Lizule whispered, trying to ease the tension of the air. Glorfindel noticed the horse's wariness and so he peered out into the gloom, as if searching for something.  
  
Glorfindel then withdrew his sword along with the rest of the legion. Legolas rode out in front, his bow strung, and gleaming from it was a golden arrow.  
  
"You have the best eyes of us all, Legolas," Glorfindel said calmly. "Hit whatever you can."  
  
Legolas nodded and disappeared into the gloom. Glorfindel followed with Lizule stuck to his side. As much as she resented riding so close to him because of their petty argument, she did so out of the fact that she was terrified. Trying to concentrate on something else, she said,  
  
"How much farther to the gates, Glorfindel?"  
  
"Five leagues."  
  
Lizule gulped and prayed that Gloried would be swift enough to keep her safe.  
  
After a while, Legolas came back, his eyes full of hope as he trotted out of the fog.  
  
"I couldn't find anyone, but I have good news. The river is still flowing and no Orcs have crossed it yet. Or if they have tried, they are dead. In other words, once we get to Rivendell, the beauty of this place will be restored."  
  
"How far to the river?" inquired Gabriel, who was fidgeting atop his horse.  
  
"I estimate three leagues. If we gallop, we can be there by nightfall."  
  
Glorfindel nodded and turned to the group.  
  
"Keep your swords unsheathed and your mounts steady. I do not want to use my power unless I absolutely need to, so I am expecting all of you to fight just like the rest of us."  
  
Lizule stared at Glorfindel questionably.  
  
~ What power? ~  
  
"All right, let's go," he said in a commanding tone. The horses took off, their hoof beats making imprints in the earth. Lizule hung on tight; the pain in her leg had ceased, now that they were under the possibility of attack.  
  
For two and a half league, the riders and horses galloped peacefully with no disturbance. When the reached the outskirts of the river, though, they were brutally assaulted by some roaming Orcs. Legolas shot them down with his bow, and then they kept on going.  
  
Lizule was petrified. She had never seen anything so frightening or as repulsive as those Orcs. Her blood froze and she swallowed hard; her heart was beating like a drum.  
  
Finally, the reached the river. Glorfindel signaled for a halt.  
  
"You MUST cross the river one by one, or else Lord Elrond will send down a flood. If he senses any evil presence in the water, he will release all of his power upon it. And trust me, you do not want that to happen."  
  
He motioned to Lizule.  
  
"She shall go first."  
  
Lizule nodded and urged Gloried forward. The daring horse plunged into the river; sending droplets of water everywhere. The river was not very deep and soon they were scrambling up the bank. She stopped the stallion and watched the rest of them make their way over the water.  
  
Slowly but surely, they were all across except for Glorfindel. His stallion was restless and would not enter the water. Glorfindel patiently got his horse under control and they eased into the water. Asfaloth pranced all the way through it, as if he were dancing. When they reached the other side, Asfaloth sprung forward, for he knew he was home. Glorfindel steadied him and called out,  
  
"Now we can run free." With those words, his horse reared up and took off into the forest. Lizule and the army followed willingly; they wanted to be safe too.  
  
****  
  
"It's gorgeous," Lizule breathed as she tried to take in the magnificence of Rivendell all at once. Everything was shining and some things were wrought of gold, others were wrought of silver. Elves danced and sung cheerful songs as they saw soldiers approaching. Lizule smiled at their antics, noticing the beauty of each individual Elf. They were all so alike, but then they were all so different. It was intriguing to her. The houses were light and airy; the courtyard was full of sunshine and warmth. In the background of Rivendell were waterfalls, glorious waterfalls, which ran down into the river they had just crossed. She sat motionless in the saddle, for her breath had been taken away.  
  
"Glorfindel! Legolas! How wonderful to see you again!" cried a sparkling voice.  
  
Lizule saw a tall, handsome looking Elf approaching them. He had black hair that was the color of the dark of night, and his eyes were a forest green. He bore a small, silver crown upon his head and a glimmering sword was in his hand. He grinned at them, his eyes lighting up like the stars.  
  
~ There is something different about him. What is it? ~  
  
"Welcome! My father has been expecting both of you, along with your reinforcements," he said to Glorfindel and Legolas. Then, he faced the army.  
  
"My name is Elladan, if you know me not. We are in your humble dept for aiding us. Hearken! You must come with as much haste as possible to my father's house. He is in great need of seeing every single one of you."  
  
Glorfindel and Legolas dismounted and bowed to the Elvish Prince. He led them to the Last Homely House, obviously wanting to catch up on old times.  
  
Isitur, who was now in charge, said,  
  
"Everyone get off their horses and unbridle them. Then, you can let them go. Horses are allowed to run free here, for they will not leave this sacred place."  
  
They all did as he asked and followed him to the Last Homely House. Lizule awaited seeing Lord Elrond with great anticipation. She wondered if he would be as handsome looking as his son. She had no idea.  
  
**** Lizule found Glorfindel and Legolas seated next to Elladan, and beside Elladan was another Elf who looked exactly like him, but his hair was a lighter black and he was shorter.  
  
~ Who is that? ~  
  
When Elladan saw them approaching he stood and smiled. "Thank you for coming, every single one of you. This Elf next to me is my twin brother, Elrohir. He gives his gratitude as well. We will be holding a council tomorrow to decide what to do about the Orcs and Balrog. But since you are coming here from a very weary journey, I will lead each one of you to your rooms so you can get settled before supper."  
  
"When will we be meeting Lord Elrond?" Lizule said tentatively, her voice small.  
  
Elladan turned to her.  
  
~ His eyes are so beautiful ~  
  
"You will be meeting him tomorrow, at the council, if you do attend."  
  
The Prince seemed bewildered that there was a female Elf in the group, but he said nothing. She was so dazzling to him that he all he could say was nothing.  
  
Lizule bowed. "Thank you, my Lord. I plan to be in attendance."  
  
Elladan nodded and then started to lead the Sindarin Elves through the chambers and rooms of the Noldor.  
  
Glorfindel came up next to Lizule.  
  
"You will be meeting Lord Elrond today," he said. "I have to talk to him about permission for the wedding."  
  
"Okay. Is that were we are going?" she asked when he steered her off in another direction.  
  
~ I don't want to talk about the wedding. I am not even sure I want to have the wedding ~  
  
Glorfindel grabbed her elbow gently and pulled her close.  
  
"Yes."  
  
****  
  
"Glorfindel, please, come in. I have great need to speak with you on certain matters," Lord Elrond said.  
  
Lizule held back a gasp. His voice sounded so familiar. Where had she heard that voice before? She peeked through a crack in the door she was hiding behind. She could see Glorfindel, but there was no sign of Elrond.  
  
"My Lord, I will graciously confer with you, but I have another matter that I need your leave of."  
  
"Oh, is that so? What may this matter be?"  
  
"Marriage."  
  
"Bring her in then, so I can get a good look at her."  
  
Glorfindel spoke. "Lizule, please come here."  
  
Lizule swallowed and rearranged her hair. She then stepped into the Lord's chambers, unaware of the sight she was going to see before her eyes.  
  
Lord Elrond was sitting in his chair, holding a silver scepter. His face was the image of kings and endless glory, and his blue eyes were more penetrating than Glorfindel's. His dark hair glowed, and around his head were tiny stars that twinkled under the light. He was the tallest Elf she had ever laid eyes upon, and the most enchanting one at that. His image held the essence of extraordinary power and grace, but also of terrific loss and suffering. He was ageless, like all Elves, but his presence gave that he was the wisest of the entire Eldar in Middle-earth. Lizule noticed that his right hand bore a gold ring with a blue opal in it. That was Vilya, the ring of Air, mightiest of the three. That ring had belonged to Gil-galad himself until he was slain in the War of the Last Alliance. Lord Elrond did not need a ring to show that he was the Lord of the Elves. His impression withheld it.  
  
Lizule started to shake. She was not worthy to stand before this powerful Elf-lord, much less speak to him. She bowed low, not trusting her voice. She knew who Lord Elrond reminded her of now.  
  
~ Totholain ~  
  
"My Lord," she said, her voice quavering, "I am at your most humblest service. How may I be of assistance to you?"  
  
~ And I thought Legolas and Glorfindel were gods. I sure have a different perspective now ~  
  
Elrond chuckled. "I need not your service. What I need is for you to tell me if you really love him. I sense you have grown a liking to someone else that you have meet here."  
  
~ Elladan? How could he have guessed that? ~  
  
When she did not answer, he said,  
  
"It happens all the time, my dear. Do not cause unwanted fret. I know you are Sindarin, although you appear to look much like the Noldor."  
  
Lizule blushed. "You are correct."  
  
Glorfindel stepped forward. "My Lord, I know each race is supposed to stick to its own kind. But some rules were made to be broken, and I ask for your blessing on this joining of spirits. If you disapprove, it will be a tragedy to both of us."  
  
Elrond stood up. "Aye, but will it be a tragedy to Lizule? How can you be so positive of your statement?"  
  
Glorfindel raised his eyebrows.  
  
"She wants to marry me. I inquired her back in Mirkwood."  
  
"People alter their minds, Glorfindel. Lizule might have altered hers."  
  
"To who?" Glorfindel demanded.  
  
"Ask her."  
  
Glorfindel turned to Lizule.  
  
"Say that you love me," he pleaded. "Say you have not fallen for someone else."  
  
Lizule glanced at Elrond, begging for help. But the Elf-lord stood silently; his handsome face set in a deep frown.  
  
She tried to say it, but she couldn't. Ever since he had refused to help her heal Gloried, her appreciation for him had dwindled. Now that she had seen Elladan, she presumed that maybe her lover was not Glorfindel anymore. She didn't feel anything whenever they kissed, nor when he would say those three fatal words: "I love you."  
  
"My Lord," she squeaked. "I am in much turmoil at this present moment. I ask for your leave so that I may clear my mind."  
  
"No! I want an answer to my."  
  
"She can go." Elrond nodded to Lizule, giving her permission. Lizule bowed and fled.  
  
****  
  
Lizule ran. She didn't know where she was running to, all she knew is that she was trying to run away from her problems.  
  
~ Why can I not love Glorfindel? Why must I have feelings for Elladan? Why did Totholain have to die? Why did Legolas have to go off to war and leave Laurelin? Why? ~  
  
So many questions but no answers for the Elf. It wasn't fair.  
  
Lizule stopped abruptly when she found herself in a beautiful garden. All kinds of flowers were blooming to the greatest extent possible, giving off a radiance of white light.  
  
Lizule bent down to sniff one of the flowers; it looked like a tulip. Immediately, a wonderful smell filled her nostrils. She took a deep breath, for the scent was soothing to the mind.  
  
"They are all like that," said a voice. Lizule pulled away from the flower and spun around. Elladan was sitting on a stone bench, reading a book. He didn't even look up at her.  
  
~ Why did I not notice him before? ~  
  
"Every single one?' she asked, not knowing how to answer him.  
  
"Yes. Every single one." Elladan closed his book and rested his eyes on her.  
  
"My Father is the best healer of all the Elves. His skills surpass any being. That is why he grows these flowers. They are part of his healing processes. Flowers are vital for making someone better again."  
  
"I see." Lizule felt her eyes start to water and she turned away from the Elvish Prince. She wiped her cheeks hurriedly, praying he did not sense her sadness.  
  
"Does he really make you that unhappy?" Lizule froze.  
  
"Who, my Lord?"  
  
"You know exactly who I am talking about, Lizule."  
  
~ How does he know my name? ~  
  
"Glorfindel?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Lizule faced Elladan slowly and swallowed.  
  
"I wasn't afflicted with him until he refused to heal Gloried, Totholain's horse. I love animals, and I just couldn't understand his reasoning."  
  
" Exactly. He probably used the excuse that he was too busy. But I will tell you something about Glorfindel. He could have healed that horse in less than ten minutes. He is almost as good as my father."  
  
"No! Are you serious?"  
  
"Yes. He only didn't want to heal the horse because horses hold little value to him. He believes that they are a living piece of property and not a real soul."  
  
"How do you know all this?"  
  
Elladan smiled at the pretty Elf-maiden.  
  
"I have seen much, and I am very good at reading people's moods. You are very distraught, no doubt."  
  
Elladan pointed to a small petunia.  
  
"Inhale its scent. You will feel much better."  
  
Lizule did as he implored, and soon she felt like a great load was lifted off her shoulders.  
  
"Thank you, my Lord."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
Lizule sat next to him, realizing that his eyes were identical to his father's. Less wisdom was held in them, but there was the same sense of love and understanding in them that Lord Elrond had.  
  
"What book are you reading?"  
  
"Oh, this? It is an account of Gil-galad from the Second Age. It is when he marched to Mordor and was slain by Sauron himself."  
  
"That was nearly two Ages ago."  
  
"Yes. The history of the Elven race has always intrigued me. I have tried to learn as much as possible on the subject."  
  
"When will you know all of it?"  
  
"When I go to Valinor. I plan to ask the Valar, especially Manwe, everything about the stories of the world and how it was created."  
  
He stopped talking suddenly and listened.  
  
"There is someone here," he whispered, drawing his sword.  
  
Lizule looked around the garden. She could not see anyone, but she could feel the presence of someone or something there. She took a deep breath and drew closer to the Elvish Prince.  
  
He shook his head, the realization coming to him.  
  
"It is just an Elf," he murmured and sat back down. "He's spying."  
  
"Why would he want to spy?"  
  
"Because he is envious of the both of us."  
  
"Why would he be envious?"  
  
"Because he loves you."  
  
"It's Glorfindel?"  
  
"Yes. But don't move. He has no clue that we know it is him."  
  
"So just act natural?"  
  
"Precisely. Just act natural."  
  
"Umm. okay. So what do we do?"  
  
"I have a good idea, but I don't know if you are going to like it."  
  
"I promise I will. Anything to get him to go away. It is so immature on his part to be spying."  
  
"He suspects that it is me."  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"He thinks I am the one you have fallen for."  
  
~ And he is so correct ~  
  
"He does?"  
  
"Yes. He is upset and enraged, which therefore, causes him to spy and act like a young Elfling. Anger can make you do anything."  
  
Lizule shrugged.  
  
"I guess." In attempt to change the subject, she said, "What is your ingenious idea?"  
  
"Oh, yes, that. But it is very mean and uncouth."  
  
"It can't be that immoral. Let's hear it."  
  
Elladan took a deep breath. He bent close to her ear and uttered two words.  
  
"A kiss."  
  
"Are you kidding?" Lizule said, aghast.  
  
~ I would love to kiss him ~  
  
"I am dead serious."  
  
~ I would love to kiss her ~  
  
Lizule frowned, but then she smiled.  
  
"It can't hurt."  
  
She raised her chin and their lips met.  
  
Lizule felt her entire soul sink into the kiss, but she didn't pull away.  
  
"I shouldn't be doing this," she thought. "Glorfindel is my fiancée."  
  
But no matter how hard she tried, she could not break from their embrace. Elladan's kiss was so much more different than Glorfindel's. His kiss was hungry and impatient, but Elladan's kiss held meaning and truth to it. Lizule closed her eyes, not realizing that this was more than just a "little" kiss to infuriate Glorfindel. They both loved each other, and they both knew it.  
  
Glorfindel knew it too. He leaped out of the trees, his face a livid red. He unsheathed his sword and thrust it under Elladan's jaw, forgetting that this was the son of Lord Elrond.  
  
"Just what do you think you are doing?" he said, in his iciest tone. Elladan glared at him and pushed his sword away.  
  
"You forget who you inquire, Glorfindel. You may be more powerful than me, but who holds the title?"  
  
Glorfindel's eyes drilled holes at the Elven Prince. He loved Lizule, and he was ready to fight this Elf for her.  
  
Lizule placed a hand on Elladan's shoulder.  
  
"Enough, both of you." She looked at Glorfindel.  
  
"Glorfindel, why wouldn't you heal Gloried for me?"  
  
"I was busy, and I did not think that we should interfere with Elbereth's course of life with animals. What she does with them is her own business and we should not alter it."  
  
Lizule sighed.  
  
"Glorfindel, I loved you once. Honestly I did. But interests change, and now I love Elladan. I do not love you anymore. As tragic as this might seem, it is not. I am sure you like someone other than me and just have not told me yet."  
  
Glorfindel's eyes blazed.  
  
"So what are you saying?"  
  
"I am saying that the wedding is off."  
  
Glorfindel took a step back, as if slapped.  
  
"You changed your mind in one day?"  
  
"One day has been proven to alter many things."  
  
~ I can't believe I am saying this! I love him, don't I? He is anything I could ever want ~  
  
But Elladan was her soul mate, and she knew it. Just with one kiss, she knew that they were meant to be together. How could she explain this to Glorfindel? How could she explain this to herself?  
  
Thankfully, she did not. Lord Elrond came out into the garden, his face set as hard as stone.  
  
"Glorfindel, she has spoken. Now withdraw yourself from her, please."  
  
Glorfindel sheathed his sword and exited the garden, his once burning white light extinguishing.  
  
Lizule groaned and dropped to the ground. The weight of the situation was too much to bear.  
  
Elladan offered her his hand and she took it gladly. The warmth coming from it made her stronger and she stood, her legs trembling.  
  
"How did you know?" she said to Elrond. "How did you know how I felt?"  
  
~ I didn't even know how I felt myself ~  
  
Elrond smiled reassuringly.  
  
"I saw it in your eyes." 


	16. Deep Regrets

Author's Note: I thank you all for your reviews, they have encouraged me to keep writing this story. On the remark of Mirkwood being renamed Greenwood the Great after the War of the Ring, the reason I kept the name Mirkwood is because Greenwood the Great gets very tiring to type out dozens of times! I will keep that in mind, though. On behalf of Elrond still residing in Imladris when he left at the end of the Third Age, I changed that so it would make the story more interesting. Elrond is one of my favorite characters, so I had to have him in this story, even though he really is in Valinor.  
  
Chapter 16  
  
Mirkwood was quiet. From Laurelin's seat next to King Thranduil, it had every reason to be. Something was terribly wrong. But what was it?  
  
Laurelin turned anxiously to the King.  
  
"My Lord, there is something amiss in this land. Should we not call forth reinforcements to secure our own premises?"  
  
Thranduil kept his eyes closed, for he knew what had happened in Rivendell. He could sense it in the earth, in the water, in the air. Much had been altered.  
  
"Lizule has changed her mind."  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"She is not marrying Glorfindel. She loves another."  
  
Laurelin gasped. "Who?"  
  
"Elladan."  
  
"That is Lord Elrond's son, right?"  
  
"Yes. I feared this beyond all else. I saw Lizule and Glorfindel's love waver, and I knew it would soon cease to exist. I just didn't think it would happen so quick."  
  
"I guess she knows who her true lover is now."  
  
"Oh, trust me, she knows. It took only one kiss to know it."  
  
****  
  
"Legolas, are you busy?"  
  
Legolas looked up from his book to his chamber doorway and saw that Lizule was standing there, her face pale. She had her black hair hanging limply, undone. Her engagement ring was gone.  
  
"No, not at all. Please, come in," he said, motioning for her to sit next to him on his bed.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Glorfindel and Elladan got in a fight."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because Glorfindel saw me kissing Elladan in the garden."  
  
Legolas choked. "Why were you kissing him?"  
  
Lizule burst into tears.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Then she blurted out her entire story, starting from when Glorfindel had refused to heal Gloried. She told him how she felt that Elladan was her soul mate and that they were meant to be together. Legolas listened, and when she was finally finished, he said,  
  
"So you love Elladan but you want to love Glorfindel?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But you and Elladan are doomed to love each other, are you not?"  
  
Lizule sniffled. "I guess."  
  
"Then let love take its own course. You can't change it, so just go with the flow of things. There is nothing more you can do."  
  
"But Glorfindel is so upset and I know he doesn't understand. How can I explain?"  
  
"You can't. That is the beauty of it. You can't explain love, you just learn to accept it, no matter where it may lead you."  
  
"I suppose," she said, sighing. "I suppose you are right."  
  
Lizule stood. "Thank you, Legolas. I feel a little better."  
  
"That is what I am here for."  
  
Lizule smiled weakly and left.  
  
Legolas watched her go, and then returned to his book that he was reading: There and Back Again, it was called, written by Bilbo Baggins. How he missed those crazy little hobbits. But they were all gone, either they were in Valinor, which was the case with Frodo, Bilbo, and Sam. Or, they were dead, like Pippin and Merry. It wasn't fair that such joyful creatures had to die. It didn't seem right.  
  
"Oh, to be mortal," Legolas thought as he turned a page in the book.  
  
****  
  
The next day came too soon for Lizule and she had to face Glorfindel at the council. She tarried in her room; roaming about and triple checking to make sure everything was in order. When she began to go over outfit for a fourth time, she realized she was acting absurd and that she better proceed downstairs.  
  
With a sigh, she opened her chamber door and walked down the never-ending hall of bedrooms. When she reached the end of it, she saw that Legolas was talking calmly to Elladan. Both Elves looked deeply troubled, but when she approached them, they put on fake smiles.  
  
"Hello, Lizule," Legolas said in a cheery voice. "Did you sleep well?"  
  
Lizule raised her eyebrows. Something was terribly wrong, and they were not telling her what it was.  
  
"Yes, I slept fine," she said cautiously, trying to see through Legolas's face of stone. She couldn't.  
  
Turning to Elladan, she smiled at him. He smiled back at her, with not a trace of distress on his lips. Lizule groaned silently. She was getting nowhere. These two Elves were skilled at covering up their emotions.  
  
"When is the council to be held?" she said, feeling that she should change the subject.  
  
"Aye, yes, well, Legolas and I were just going to it right now. Would you like me to escort you there?" Elladan said, offering her his elbow.  
  
"Yes, my Lord, I would like that very much." She took his arm and followed the Elf Princes downstairs.  
  
They led her out on a huge balcony that was shaded by trees with golden leaves. Lord Elrond was sitting in his chair, with Elrohir on his left. Erestor, his chief, was standing behind Elrond; his face set in an emotionless stare. Elladan took his seat on the right of his Father and Lizule sat down next to him. Legolas joined Isitur and Glorfindel at the other end of the council ring.  
  
~ Glorfindel ~  
  
Lizule dropped her head, embarrassed to see him there in all of his glory. He was looking positively stunning, and her heart hurt as she took in the full sight of him.  
  
Elrond stood and raised his hands to quiet the congregation.  
  
"My people, friends and allies of Rivendell, we come together to discuss the fate of Imladris. It is on the brink of destruction if we sit back and do nothing. This is our war, the Eldar's war. We must fight, or our entire race will fall. "With the army that we have, we must destroy the Balrog and fend off the Orcs. What I speak of will not be easy, nor will it come without deaths. But I am willing to make the needed sacrifice to protect our race. We have 2,500 soldiers and five generals. This task should not take more than a week to accomplish if we do it right. In order to destroy the Balrog, it will take every Elf-lord's power to perform this."  
  
Elrond motioned to Glorfindel.  
  
"Glorfindel has been making a list of every Elf that has any power that we can use against the Balrog. He will now read the names."  
  
Glorfindel stood and cleared his throat.  
  
"Lord Elrond, Prince Elladan, Prince Elrohir, Erestor, Totholain, and myself. Unfortunately, due to Totholain's recent death, we will not be able to use his gift."  
  
Glorfindel folded the piece of paper, sat back down, and crossed his arms.  
  
"With these powers combined, I believe we can create a force quite unlike any other ever seen before. However, we must train and prepare if we are to succeed at this." Elrond scanned the crowd, resting his eyes on each Elf there, as if to make his point clear to everyone.  
  
Legolas shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He had a question, but he was unsure if he should ask it. Timidly he said,  
  
"Lord Elrond, I beg your pardon, but what about the Elves that do not have any "special" powers? What are we to fight? If we destroy the Balrog, what is the point in battling the Orcs?"  
  
Elrond smiled at the younger Elf. He was so wise yet so naïve. Legolas had grown from when Elrond had seen him last, which had been about a year and a half ago.  
  
"You will not battle the Orcs. You will fight the Balrog with us."  
  
Legolas gulped. "With all do respect, we will lose many Elves if we all fight this Balrog. I thought that just the Elf-lords were going to fight it."  
  
Elrond sighed; Legolas was thinking too hard. "The whole army will not battle the Balrog. We will have the five Elf-lords Glorfindel mentioned, you, and Isitur. That is the army to kill the Balrog."  
  
"And all the other Elves fight the Orcs?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Okay," Legolas said, nodding. He was not sure if he would be able to help kill the Balrog, but he felt safe because Elrond would be there with him.  
  
"Any more questions?"  
  
No one said a word.  
  
"All right then. Will the Elves that I mentioned come with me, and everyone else can rest. We plan to attack in three days, so please keep up your strength!"  
  
**** 


	17. Secrets and Powers Revealed

Author's Note: In this chapter, I have added some things that Tolkien never wrote about, or if he did, he perceived them in a much different way than I did. If you don't like stories that don't go by the rules, I suggest you stop reading this story. I haven't changed a lot, but I added a little bit to make the defense of Rivendell a tiny bit more interesting.  
  
Chapter 17  
  
Laurelin stepped into her chambers and noticed that a huge, battered trunk was on the floor of her bedroom. She bent down and opened it. Inside, were a bow and quiver, an old sword, a good sum of money, and a gorgeous leather bridle. She picked up the bridle and noticed that "Mortal" was inscribed on the broadband. Mortal was the name of her father's deceased war-horse.  
  
"Why do I have all of these things?" she wondered as she laid down the bridle and picked up the sword. Its handle was cracked, and there was a chip in the metal. She swung it around and it nearly knocked her over. It was a very heavy sword.  
  
The Elf-princess put the sword back in the trunk, pondering why she had received all these possessions. She dug through the trunk, hoping to find a clue. She finally came upon a letter with torn edges. She instantly recognized it as the letter her father had written her before he had departed. She then remembered that he had given her all of his belongings since he had been leaving.  
  
Laurelin smiled faintly, refolded the letter, put it in her pocket, and closed the trunk. She picked up the beautiful bridle, noticing that it was in fact, an ancient bridle, for the seal of Oropher was stamped on the noseband. She ran her hand along its leather finish, now missing Legolas more than ever.  
  
"I'll go ride," she thought. "It'll keep my mind off him."  
  
***  
  
Legolas caught up with Elladan as they made their way to Elrond's spacious chambers. He grabbed him by the arm and they moved to the back of the crowd so they could talk privately.  
  
"Have you figured out what to do about your situation with Lizule yet?" Legolas inquired of Elladan. "She is extremely upset, and I fear that she may consider leaving Imladris and head back to Mirkwood. But she cannot leave until we have the Balrog destroyed. I don't think the danger matters to her, though. She'll leave anyway."  
  
Elladan sighed. "I don't know what I am going to do," he said, glaring at Glorfindel, who was some way ahead. 'I wish things wouldn't be so complicated. If only she would make amends with Glorfindel, and then we could get on with the rest of our lives."  
  
"Yes, but Glorfindel is still quite angry. I think you should be the one to ask for his pardon and blessing. It isn't exactly fair to Glorfindel for his fiancée to abandon him, just because he refused to heal Gloried."  
  
Lord Elrond's son frowned at the Mirkwood Prince. "Whose side are you on, anyway?" he sneered. "I thought you would support both of us, with Lizule being your wife's friend and all."  
  
"I am on your side, but I am just trying to think reasonably. You can't hide the fact that Glorfindel did not deserve this."  
  
"Maybe, but he need not get so upset about it," Elladan murmured. "He is always quicker to anger than most Elves, with you know, his special power and all."  
  
Legolas wanted to ask what power that was, but he was interrupted by their arrival at Lord Elrond's chambers. The Elf-lord bowed graciously.  
  
"Please, each of you, take a seat. We have much to plan, and so little time to do it. I will start this meeting on the understanding that all of you know the risks involved in slaying a Balrog. It is a highly dangerous task, however, it has been done before and we just have to practice to make sure we do it right and we suffer no casualties. In the event that we do lose one of you, it will be a serious loss and we may not have time to recuperate. "The army is milling around outside our borders as we speak. Although our boundaries are well protected, the magic is slowly giving in. We must therefore proceed with as much haste as possible. If we do not, we will be defeated by next week."  
  
Dead silence. The only sound made was the crackling of wood as it burned in the huge fireplace. Finally, someone dared to speak.  
  
"What are our weapons of choice?" asked Erestor as his eyes slid over an arrangement of swords on a wall. "There are not many blades that can cut through the hide of a Balrog."  
  
There were several murmurs of agreement.  
  
"Balrogs are an ancient evil, the servants of Melkor himself. Therefore, I have selected swords that have proved many Elves right in battle, back in the First and Second Ages," said Elrond.  
  
Lord Elrond went over to a table and laid out seven swords on a red cloth. He then picked up the sword nearest to him.  
  
"This is Gil-galad's sword. He fought with it in the Battle of the Last Alliance, at the end of the Second Age. Although he was slain, his sword survived and I will bear it as my own."  
  
The King of the Elves raised the sword up, and it sparkled in the weak light. Rubies flecked the handle of the sword, and the long, flowing script of Elvish writing traced its edges. He sheathed the sword in his scaffold, which was attached to his robes. He then motioned for Elladan to come forward. He handed him a sword, and Legolas recognized it immediately. It was the sword of Gandalf, Glamdring. Legolas started to wonder how Elrond had come by all these spectacular swords as he handed Elrohir the sword of Narsil, reforged.  
  
When it was Legolas's turn, Elrond gave him the very last sword he wanted to see. Legolas dropped it, and it clattered to the ground. Its sound echoed as a distant memory that did not want to be resurfaced.  
  
"I can't wield that," he croaked. "It was Totholain's."  
  
Lord Elrond smiled knowingly. "Aye, yes, it was. It was a very good sword for the valiant Elf-lord. He was a brave warrior, and it is a shame that his own sword killed him."  
  
Legolas started to shake slightly. He rested his hand on the fireplace mantle to try and steady himself.  
  
"How did you come by it?" Legolas breathed. "It was buried with him."  
  
~ I can't believe he disturbed the peace of the dead ~  
  
Elrond didn't answer him. Instead, he said,  
  
"Legolas, there is something you need to know about Totholain's death. Something I think everyone is this room should hear."  
  
The Elf-king took a deep breath. "Totholain was one of the Maiar, who was sent down to protect Laurelin from being murdered when she was young. The night that he died, Elbereth visited him and told him he had to depart, and leave Laurelin to her dreaded fate. He refused, and then he killed himself."  
  
Legolas swayed. His mind was going fuzzy, and dark circles blinded his eyes. He did not want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. He would never believe Totholain to kill himself.  
  
"No," he whispered softly under his breath. "No."  
  
Lord Elrond grimaced. "I am sorry it has to come as such a shock. I always knew he was a Maiar, but the fact that he stabbed himself when told he had to leave Laurelin with a death sentence would never occur to me."  
  
"WHAT?" Legolas shouted, his arms shaking uncontrollably. "WHAT DEATH SENTENCE?"  
  
The Elf Prince strode over to where Lord Elrond was standing. Although Elrond was slightly taller, Legolas bore his blue eyes into Elrond's wise green ones.  
  
"WHAT is going on?" he said, as he clenched and unclenched his hands. "Laurelin is not going to die anytime soon."  
  
~ She can't die ~  
  
"Legolas, the only way she will die is if you die."  
  
Legolas's mouth fell open. He closed it quickly.  
  
"Therefore, I have given you this sword, which has been stained with a Maiar's blood. You are as good as invincible. This sword is as powerful as Gil-galad's, if not stronger."  
  
Legolas stared blankly at Elrond. He had no idea what he was talking about.  
  
"Don't you see? Totholain killed himself in a last, hopeless attempt to save you and Laurelin, if you still came to Rivendell and ignored his warnings. He meddled with fate, which is an extremely dangerous thing to do. But he has succeeded, as long as you bear his sword, Glamdrigul. If you don't, you will die, and so will she."  
  
Legolas opened his mouth, but no words came out. He tried again, all to no avail.  
  
~ How will she die if I refuse to bear this sword? ~  
  
Elrond, however, answered the unasked question for him.  
  
"She will die of grief. The rose will tell her of your fate."  
  
The Mirkwood Prince nodded in vain. Still, though there was one thing that was bothering him.  
  
"My Lord," he said weakly, "how do you know all of this?"  
  
The Elf-lord smiled. "Ask Glorfindel. He has the power."  
  
Legolas turned to Glorfindel and gasped. The Elf's eyes were sparkling in the shadow, and a light, misty glow was surrounding him. In Glorfindel's face, he saw not only the image of Totholain, but Oropher, Haldir, and Gil- galad. Glorfindel stood, his presence filling the room suddenly with hundreds of memories, and he withdrew a beautiful necklace from inside his white robes. Legolas recognized it immediately.  
  
"The Evenstar!" He cried, joy lighting up on his face as he saw it once again. "I thought it was lost!"  
  
"It may be lost in the mind, but never in the heart," Glorfindel said, his voice sending a chill down Legolas's bones. He sounded exactly like Aragorn.  
  
"You see, Legolas, Glorfindel has an unusual gift, just like Totholain and me. I can foresee the future, Totholain could read minds, and Glorfindel is able to enter the heart of anyone and withdraw most precious items, like possessions, but also, he can take out the intentions of a person and put it into words. It is not what our mind and thoughts lead us to do, but our heart itself," Elrond said.  
  
Legolas froze in shock. He glanced over at Elladan, and was surprised to see that the prince was not taken aback at all by Glorfindel's power. He was staring at the ground, and murmuring something so soft Legolas could not hear. Legolas's eyes fell to the ground and he saw the sword, which was lying there, forgotten.  
  
"So that is how you got Totholain's sword," Legolas said, forcing his voice to stay calm. "I can't believe it."  
  
He went over, picked it up, and sheathed it. He then turned quickly to Elrond. "Is there any other powers I should know about?" he said, not bothering to keep his voice lowered anymore.  
  
"Elladan," he said, and Lord Elrond's son looked straight at him, not blinking. "What were you trying to do before? Transfix the sword? Are any of you Elves here just ordinary Eldar, trying to save Imladris from destruction? Except for Isitur, I bet each and every one of you have some freak talent! I am so glad I have been informed of this, for I am leaving."  
  
He headed to the door, but Elrond stopped him. "Getting angry will not solve our problems. We must work together, each with our special gift, to rid ourselves of this Balrog. It is the only way to do it."  
  
Legolas glared at Lord Elrond, fixing his stare on those warm, gentle eyes. He tried to blink, but he found it impossible.  
  
"I have other powers you know not of," Elrond said softly, keeping his voice dangerously low. "I do not wish to make you stay, but if I must, I will."  
  
"You took Totholain's sword from its resting place! You have deliberately lied to me, and used Glorfindel's power to your advantage! I will not have it!" Legolas's mind screamed. He mouthed the words, for no sound was coming out.  
  
Legolas attempted to move, but it was like his feet were stuck to the floor. He withdrew Glamdrigul and pointed it straight at Elrond, breathing hard.  
  
"Move, my Lord," he snarled, "or I will make you."  
  
"Please, be reasonable. I know you are upset and confused, but taking this out on others is not wise. You are very clever, Legolas, but you are also very naïve. Please, come sit down, and I will try to explain everything to the best of my ability. Do not make me fight you."  
  
Legolas felt his arm guide his sword back into the scaffold. His feet shuffled across the ground as he made his way to his seat, in a sort of trance. He sat down and crossed his arms, determined to keep his mind closed to whatever Elrond was talking about. Glorfindel was standing beside the Elf-lord, the images in his face gone and replaced by a very fowl stare. He seemed livid. Legolas ignored the occasional glances from Isitur, who looked very confused. The Mirkwood Prince sank lower in his chair, going over the scenario in his mind.  
  
~ The only way to save Laurelin, according to these fools, is to stay here. I may as well listen, and kill this Balrog, but as soon as I get home I am never leaving again ~  
  
****  
  
"Master Legolas?" Legolas jumped at the words. He had never been called that since the end of the War of the Ring. It brought bittersweet memories back to him like a tidal wave. He turned around, looking for the source of the voice.  
  
He saw that a tiny Elf-girl was standing in his chambers, holding the Evenstar necklace in the palm of her hand. Legolas reached for it instinctively, but she backed away, keeping a small distance.  
  
"Lord Glorfindel wishes to give this necklace to you, on one condition." She paused, and then continued. "He wants to speak to you personally and try to explain everything that has been going on these past days. If you will go see him, this necklace is yours."  
  
"Why can't his Lordship give the necklace back to Aragorn? That is were it belongs, doesn't it?"  
  
~ Even though Aragorn is dead ~  
  
"Oh, no, Master Legolas, once a possession is taken by Lord Glorfindel, it can never be given back."  
  
"I see," said Legolas angrily. "Well, tell your Lord that I was just going to have a little chat with Lizule, and if he doesn't mind, I cannot speak to him tonight." The Mirkwood Prince headed for the door.  
  
"You were not going to see Lizule. You were pondering about whether or not to tell her to flee this place."  
  
Legolas gasped and spun around. Lord Elrond was standing by his closet, his eyes closed and his face laden with distress. Small, white stars lined his forehead in the shape of a crown.  
  
"How did you get there?"  
  
Elrond smiled weakly and waved his hand. The Elf-girl made to leave the room, but Legolas stood in front of the door and would not let her pass.  
  
"I want that necklace," he said. "It belongs to me more than to Glorfindel. Aragorn would want me to keepsake it, in honor of Arwen. Give it to me."  
  
The Elfling took Legolas's hand and opened it. She traced the shape of the Evenstar on his hand, and then she withdrew the necklace from her fist and gave it to him. He stepped aside, and let her out.  
  
"You frightened her," Elrond said, after she had gone. "No one in Rivendell has ever spoken to her in that kind of tone."  
  
"Well, I am sorry I scared her, but who is she? And why is she so fond of Glorfindel?"  
  
"I did not come here to answer your questions. I came here to persuade you not to tell Lizule anything you heard at that council. If she knew the powers that we withhold, she would probably go mad."  
  
"I can pardon her for that. I am about to go mad myself! This is getting more unusual by the hour." Legolas opened his door and threw a comment back at Elrond.  
  
"I think if anyone deserves to know, it is Lizule. She was about to marry Glorfindel, for Valar's sake! She has no perception of the powers Glorfindel has, or Elladan. Speaking of Elladan, what power does he have?"  
  
The King of the Elves sighed. "He is quite skilled with flowers and herbal remedies. He has discovered the potency of certain flowers, and he knows which ones have a positive impact, and which ones have a negative impact."  
  
"That's grand. I better tell Lizule her lover has a soft spot for flowers."  
  
The Prince of Mirkwood went to step through the doorway, but the door closed in his face. He tried to open it, but it stayed firmly shut. Groaning, he spoke at Elrond with words that stung.  
  
"So, besides being a fortune teller and a plunderer, you are telekinetic too? This just keeps getting worse! What other secret powers do you have? Can you fly as well?"  
  
Elrond bore his eyes at Legolas, penetrating through his skin and making his heart drop. It was the most horrible feeling Legolas had ever experienced. He staggered to the ground.  
  
"Enough! Enough!" He called from the floor. "I surrender! I apologize for being so obnoxious! I'm sorry! I am just upset that Laurelin has been fated to die, and that her survival depends on me. It is very tough to understand." He broke off and took a deep, shaky breath.  
  
Lord Elrond blinked, clearing away the dark fire in his eyes. He gave his hand to the Elf Prince and pulled him up.  
  
"Will you just listen?" Elrond asked, his eyes now warm and gentle. "I will try to explain everything."  
  
Legolas nodded and sat down in a chair. Elrond remained standing, as if trying to show Legolas that they were both equals.  
  
"First off, the reason I have all of these unnatural gifts is because my brother and I were given a choice: we could either be of Elven kind, or of the Men race. I chose Elven kind, but he chose Men. The Valar gave us this choice because we were born of a mortal father and immortal mother. My father was favored among the Valar, and we were blessed with extraordinary powers. I was given the gifts of the gods, or in other terms, I have the gift of foresight, I am telekinetic, as you just figured out, and I can transport myself from place to place much easier than other beings. All of those powers belong to the Valar, and so I too received them. I also received some other unknown powers, powers I am trying to figure out and learn how to control. It is not an easy task.  
  
"So, when I was presented with these "talents", I took them with high confidence. The War of the Last Alliance was to be fought soon, and Lord Gil-galad, the King of all the Elves called for my help, and I of course accepted, putting full faith in my powers. He promised me that if he was slain, his ring, Vilya, would be passed on to me, and I would be crowned the King of the Elves. In the end, we did indeed lose him, and our grieving period was very great. Sauron was the cause of his death, and we have sworn revenge upon him until we are compensated for Gil-galad's loss. Of course, nothing could ever come close to making up for the death of Gil-galad.  
  
"My powers could not save him that day, so I learned that they too have their own limits, and I can not do everything within myself. My powers could not bring him back, but it made me aware that I cannot save everyone. That is a tough lesson to learn."  
  
There was a long pause. Finally, as if pondering over his choice of words, Legolas said,  
  
"I understand your powers, and your sons, since they are you, in a way. What I don't comprehend is why Glorfindel and Erestor, for example, have powers. Were they also gifted from the gods?"  
  
"Glorfindel was an extremely brave Elf when he lived in Gondolin, a beautiful city that saddens my heart to name. When Gondolin fell, he was forced to battle with a ferocious Balrog, but he had no weapon. He used his mind to buy him time, but the Balrog still killed him. When Manwe granted his request to come back to Middle-earth, he endowed him with the gift he has today. It enables him to almost anything to his enemy, since he can withdraw a very powerful sword or bow and use it against his opponent by surprise. They then stand little or no chance.  
  
"Erestor, though, was born with his power. He is incapable of lying, and he can read intentions off of anyone, whether their intentions were good or bad. Why he was born with this power I believe we may never know, but it has proved quite important endless times."  
  
"So basically, we are unbeatable when we go up against this Balrog. We practically have a death sentence on him right now!"  
  
"Yes and no. Even the best-laid out plans can go wrong. Although we will probably kill him, we might lose one of our own number in the fight. You never know what may happen."  
  
"But you have the gift of foresight. Do you not know who will die and who will live?"  
  
"I only know what the Valar wills me to know. They will not let me see certain fates of certain Elves, and you, Legolas, are one of those Elves. But there is some good news. You are perfectly safe as long as you keep Totholain's sword with you to fight with and you never let it out of your sight. If you do, it could prove fatal. Understand?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good, I am glad." Elrond patted him on the shoulder. He then opened the door to the dark hallway outside.  
  
"I hope you can reach a mutual understanding with Glorfindel and the rest of us. It will help you enormously later on."  
  
Elrond stepped through the doorway, but Legolas blurted out a question that had been bothering him for so long.  
  
"My Lord, when do we attack?"  
  
Elrond stopped. He closed his eyes and said,  
  
"The day after tomorrow, at sunrise." 


	18. The War Begins

Chapter 18  
  
Lizule went outside for a breath of fresh air. Dawn had come, and it left the world in a sense of peacefulness. Everything was still, and Rivendell was wrapped in contentment. Or that is what Lizule thought as she made her way down to the endless fields where the horses were grazing. She saw Legolas was stroking Arodas and all the time talking to him in his ear. She approached stealthily, trying not to make a sound, but Legolas caught her before she could hear his conversation with the horse.  
  
"Lizule, what are you doing here?" The Prince of Mirkwood said as he ran his hand along Arodas's glossy coat. "I thought you, at the very least, would still be resting."  
  
"I couldn't sleep," Lizule said, knowing that wasn't the entire truth. She had slept, but she had been troubled my many fearsome dreams. Some were so real that it seemed like they had actually happened.  
  
"And you, my prince, I thought you would be in your chambers as well. We attack tomorrow, do we not?"  
  
"Yes," he said bitterly. "We do. I was just explaining to Arodas the plan on how to overcome this foolish Balrog. He agrees with me, it seems."  
  
"Horses can't talk," laughed Lizule. "You know that better than anyone else."  
  
"They may not be able to talk, but they can listen. They are the best listeners anywhere."  
  
"I see. Well, I was just going to take Gloried out for a ride. Do you care to join me?" Lizule hadn't been planning to take him out, but she felt like she needed a ride at the moment.  
  
"I thank you, but I don't want to tire out Arodas before the attack."  
  
"You are just making up excuses. One little trail ride will not affect Arodas at the least. We could ride bareback, if you like. I know that tradition has grown old, but I still enjoy it now and then."  
  
"I am not really up to a trail ride today, to tell you the honest truth. Maybe."  
  
"I could go with you?" said Elladan. He came up next to them, with a gorgeous flea-bitten gray in tow. "My stallion, Orion, could use the exercise."  
  
"Um, of course, if you wish," Lizule said slowly. "Just let me call Gloried." She put two fingers to her mouth and whistled an ear-splitting whistle. Gloried came thundering over the fields, a wonderful gleam in his bright eyes. He stopped right in front of the Elf maiden and nudged her gently. Lizule put her hand on his muzzle and stroked him.  
  
"I was planning to ride bareback. Is that all right?" Lizule tentatively asked.  
  
"No problem." Elladan swung up on the huge stallion as if he had been doing it all his life. Orion pranced beneath him, but Elladan steadied him with naught but a word.  
  
Lizule followed in suit, but Legolas had to give her a leg up. Gloried was much bigger than she.  
  
"Um, Legolas?" she whispered so that Elladan wouldn't hear. "What shall I do if Glorfindel sees us?"  
  
"Just keep on riding and pay him no heed. You are with Elladan now, He has no power to change that." Something in Legolas's voice caught, but he continued on as if nothing had happened. "Just play it by year and don't get into trouble." He patted Gloried and walked over to Elladan.  
  
"I don't know if you are going to tell her about your power, but I suggest that you do, so that she finds out from you and not someone else. My Lord, do I make myself clear?"  
  
"Clear as crystal," Elladan said coldly. He moved Orion away from Legolas, and Lizule followed, smiling at the Wood-Elf as she passed. Legolas walked back to Arodas, murmuring softly.  
  
"So what do you think?" he inquired of the horse, although he knew he would receive no answer. "What shall I do?"  
  
****  
  
"I thought we might ride up to the archery range. Does that suit you?" Elladan asked as his mighty horse picked up a trot.  
  
"I don't have a bow or a quiver," Lizule said, thanking the Valar that her voice actually was working.  
  
"That's fine. We have spare ones there."  
  
"Okay. I'll go. But I must warn you, I can't shoot an arrow to save my life."  
  
"Legolas hasn't taught you? I find that very surprising. I mean, he is an expert with the bow."  
  
"I never asked him to teach me. I believe he thought I wouldn't want to learn."  
  
"No matter. I will teach you instead. It isn't really that difficult, once you understand how to do it."  
  
They rode in silence for the remainder of the trip. When they finally arrived at the archery range, Lizule was surprised to see someone else there. It was Gabriel. His back was to them, and he was stringing a mighty bow. He released the arrow and it hit the outer rim of one of the closest targets. Clearly frustrated, he threw the bow down in despair.  
  
"Gabriel? Is everything okay?" Lizule said, frowning. She did not understand why he shooting so badly. He usually had a pretty good aim.  
  
Gabriel stood, his face gaunt and drawn. It looked like he had not slept for weeks.  
  
"Did you see the sword Legolas has?" He cried. "It's Totholain's sword, Glamdrigul. How he dared to disturb the peace of the dead!"  
  
Shocked, Lizule looked over at Elladan. He didn't appear to be surprised. On the contrary, his dark eyes were glittering maliciously at Gabriel. He was stroking Orion's neck and murmuring softly to himself.  
  
Lizule looked back at Gabriel. He seemed to be confused by Elladan's reaction too.  
  
"What is it, Prince of Rivendell? Do you not care? How can you not show any respect for the dead?"  
  
"Gabriel," Elladan said slowly as he dismounted from Orion's back. "Legolas did not take it. At first he would not even touch it. Only after my father explained to him its purpose would he receive it." Elladan hitched Orion's leather bridle on to a post that was standing outside of a supply closet, apparently believing this explanation would be good enough for Gabriel. However, it was not.  
  
"I saw the sword in his own hands when he was going back to his chambers! He looked mighty proud of receiving such a terrible yet splendid sword."  
  
Elladan opened his mouth as if to say something, but he thought better of it, and quickly closed it. Shaking his head, he turned to Lizule.  
  
"Would you like to get down from that horse and practice?" he said, with no emotion in his voice.  
  
Lizule swallowed hard and nodded. She slid off and gave Gloried to Elladan. Gabriel's mouth was hanging open and he was glaring at the Elf-Prince. Lizule didn't know what to say or do to comfort the enraged soldier. True, the sword had once been Totholain's, but if Legolas needed it, then by all means let him use it. She was not going to argue with Elladan either.  
  
Without another word, Gabriel spun on his heel and stalked off to his horse, which was tied at the other end of the archery range. He mounted and galloped away.  
  
"Well, well," Elladan said. "I guess this means we have the range all to ourselves."  
  
The Elf maiden walked over to the quiver of arrows and the bow Gabriel had left lying in the long grass. She picked them up and gave the bow to Elladan.  
  
"There is no possible way I could string that," she said. "I need a much smaller bow."  
  
Elladan smiled and went into the supply closet. He came out with two bows, one was slightly bigger than the other, and a quiver of arrows. He gave the smaller bow to Lizule. The bigger one he stringed easily and fitted an arrow to it. Walking over to the shooting range, he let go of the arrow and it hit one of the targets right in the middle. Beckoning Lizule to come forward, he showed her how to string the bow.  
  
"Okay, now put an arrow up to the string and hold it between two fingers, your index finger and middle finger. Good. Now, aim for the closest target. Try aiming up a little bit, or your arrow will end up hitting the grass."  
  
Lizule positioned the arrow and released it. The arrow hit the target on the outer rim.  
  
"Good job. Next time, try aiming a little bit more to the left. You'll find the wind will carry it to the middle."  
  
Lizule nodded and did as he instructed. This time, she hit the target square in the center. Smiling gleefully, she picked up another arrow.  
  
"May I attempt the next one?" she inquired, hoping that he would give her permission.  
  
Elladan nodded as he hit yet another target dead center. "Of course."  
  
They practiced for more than an hour. Her fingers were aching terribly, but by the time the sun was starting to set, Lizule could hit all of the targets except one. Not even Elladan could get a bulls-eye on it. It was positioned at least two hundred feet away and was on a tiny hill.  
  
"Has anyone ever hit the center on that target?" Lizule said, exasperated as she picked up yet another arrow. "It seems impossible."  
  
"Only Legolas has ever been able to do it. He got it on his second try. He tried to teach me, but to hit it requires great skill and lots of practice. I just don't have the time."  
  
"I presume he used an powerful bow?"  
  
"No, actually. He used his old Mirkwood bow, which was the one he owned before receiving his Lothlorien bow. But speaking of power." Elladan stopped abruptly, debating whether or not he should tell her. If he did inform her, she might shun him and return to Glorfindel, and then be emotionally hurt. Also, his father had warned him about telling anyone. But if he didn't tell her, she would sooner or later figure it out and be wounded by his lie. He took a deep breath.  
  
"Lizule, there is something I have been meaning to tell you." The Elf maiden looked at him with a searching expression on her face.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I have an extraordinary gift, Lizule. I do not know if you have discovered it, but I am highly skilled with plants, especially flowers. We could be out in the wild wandering about and I would know the name of every single bush and shrub we pass, regardless of whether or not I have seen it before. I know which flowers are poisonous and which ones are helpful. It comes to me like second nature. Unfortunately, it is a very bizarre and unheard of talent, but I do have it. I just wanted to tell you so you can understand that I want to be open in this relationship. I don't want to have to speak of lies to cover up something you deserve to be aware of. I humbly ask for your pardon, since I did not inform you sooner."  
  
Lizule cocked her head and smiled. She felt relieved that it was something as trivial as this.  
  
"I completely understand. And of course you have my pardon, you foolish Prince! But there is one thing that is vexing me. If you have a gift with flowers, than what is Glorfindel's secret power? I heard him talking about it when we were coming from Mirkwood."  
  
Elladan grimaced. His father's voice rang in his head: "Do not tell anyone or anything about the powers possessed within all of us who are here at this council. Legolas and Isitur might not have anything "special" about them, but we do not know for certain. Therefore, do not inform a single soul about the Council's powers. It could destroy our entire plan." The Elf-prince flinched. He had disobeyed his father severely, yet, what harm could come from just telling Lizule?  
  
"Come here," he instructed as he sat down on the grass. Lizule sat beside him, a questioning look on her face. She was looking around and through the woods, like she had heard something. She dismissed it with a brief grin at Elladan.  
  
Elladan smiled back and then shook his head, trying to get rid of his father's voice, which was pounding in his ears.  
  
"I will tell you everything," he said, his voice faltering slightly. "Everything I know."  
  
****  
  
Legolas looked out over the descending sunset. The day had passed extremely fast. Too fast, in his opinion. For tomorrow, they were going to attack the Balrog and the remaining Orcs that the Fire Demon had under his command.  
  
Fingering his sword, Legolas pulled Glamdrigul out of its sheath. He remembered Totholain telling him that when the sword's master was stressed or upset, the blade would glow red. But at the moment, it was just a silver blade with beautiful Elvish script written along the edges. The Mirkwood Prince lifted it up in the air, admiring the inscriptions along the sides. He then noticed, for the very first time, what the writing said:  
  
" Hope is not a trite word: It is a word of rendering significance, and within hope courage will always prevail."  
  
Legolas smiled weakly at the quote. It did make him feel a tiny bit better inside. He sheathed the sword and continued to watch the sun set below the tree line, making a splendid horizon. After several minutes, he noticed something was coming through the trees. He strained his eyes and saw Gabriel mounted on a dark black horse, galloping with all speed toward the Rivendell stables. Although it was dark, and Gabriel and the stallion were far away, Legolas saw heavy sweat marks on the horse's chest and flanks. It looked exhausted. The Elf-prince watched attentively as Gabriel and the horse disappeared from view. He did not understand why Gabriel was racing his horse that hard at night, especially when it needed its strength for tomorrow!  
  
Legolas glanced back over at the woods and saw what had made Gabriel run. Elladan and Lizule were coming up the path, deep in conversation. They seemed unaware that Gabriel had been in front of them. Lizule was nodding thoughtfully, and the Rivendell Prince appeared to be explaining a complicated theory to her. That was when Legolas noticed that they were holding hands.  
  
"So, Gabriel, my friend, I presume you have been spying. But for what reason? Why would it concern you so?" Legolas thought while grinning to himself. "You foolish trickster."  
  
He shook his head with disapproval. Nothing agitated him more than when an Elf was untruthful. It bothered him to the greatest extent. But what could he do? The precious traditions of his own beloved race were failing, diminishing in the Fourth Age of Middle-earth. Change was hardly ever a good thing in Legolas's opinion.  
  
He sighed and sat down on his bed. He then noticed that his book, There and Back Again, was open and lying on the oak table over by his fireplace. He furrowed his brow, remembering that he had closed the book and put it in his drawer. It seemed odd that it was there, but he had no more time to think about it, for Gabriel burst into his room, his usually calm eyes raging with fire and spite.  
  
"Legolas!" He boomed, his voice echoing against the walls. "If you are such a good friend to Lizule, then why is she off gallivanting with the insane?"  
  
The Mirkwood Prince's eyes popped wide open. So Elladan had told her. "What are you talking about?" He asked, trying to forge his innocence of the matter.  
  
Gabriel shot daggers at Legolas. He clearly was not convinced. "What do you mean, what am I talking about? I overheard Elladan telling Lizule about his "secret" power and how she could not inform a single soul. She promised, of course. And as soon as I heard it I knew that you were aware of it, for they must have told you and everyone else at the Council. That is irrelevant, though. What I really want to know is if anyone else in this place has some other peculiar thing about them?"  
  
Legolas gulped. He now realized whom Gabriel sounded like. Gabriel reminded Legolas of himself.  
  
"Uh, um, well, Gabriel, I can't explain this to you, but all I can say is that you must trust Lord Elrond and the Generals, especially Glorfindel. They know what they are doing, and I have placed my fate in their hands. Just do not violate their suggestions."  
  
~ Legolas , how can you be saying this, when just a day ago you were convinced that you would not accept it? ~  
  
Gabriel looked livid. He stormed out of the room and shut the door, apparently to make a silent statement to Legolas. The Mirkwood Prince groaned and sat down in his chair. So much was going wrong. He missed his home and Laurelin, he wasn't even sure if this sword was going to protect him and her life, Gabriel was in a fit of rage, Lizule couldn't figure out who she wanted to love, what else could happen? What else could possibly go astray?  
  
He dropped his head into his lap, closed his eyes, and let his soul sink into a world with no problems, back such a long time ago, when he still had his mother.  
  
****  
  
"Master Legolas?" a timid voice said. "Master Legolas, it is time to wake up now."  
  
Legolas moaned and rolled over. He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to face the world. But with dread, he knew that he had to. Clearing his eyes, he focused his stare on a tiny Elf-girl who was standing in his doorway. She was the same Elfling who had given the Evenstar to him. He sat up with a start, realizing he must have went to sleep and fallen to the floor. He rubbed his eyes and said,  
  
"What do you want?" in his most polite tone. He did not want to scare her off again.  
  
The girl smiled nervously. "My Lord Glorfindel and King Elrond wish that you would report to them immediately. Your horse has been readied and his waiting outside. We are going to war today."  
  
Legolas grimaced. His old despair came rushing back to him like a tidal wave. "Wonderful. War is the last thing I want to think about. However, that is not important to you in the slightest way," he said, sensing the questioning in her mind. "Tell your "Lord" I will be down there soon. I just have to get dressed and put on my sword."  
  
The Elfling nodded. "Yes, Master Legolas." She turned to leave. "Oh, the reason your book is open is because I was supposed to give you the message yesterday, but you were not here. I am ashamed to say I went searching through your cabinets and I found your book. I read it for two hours. It is very good. I am sorry for plundering through your stuff. I know it was not right of me." The Elf girl bowed to him and closed his door with a soft bang behind her.  
  
Legolas shook his blond head with distaste. Children were full of curiosities, that was for sure. It irked him in the slightest way.  
  
"Oh well," he thought. "There is nothing you can do about it. All Elflings go through that phase."  
  
The Mirkwood Prince stood and rubbed his back. He was sore all over. It certainly wasn't a good thing. With a tiny limp in his walk, he went over to his drawers. He yawned as he put on his tunic, and then he strapped on his arm guards. Over that he put a light shirt of mail, but he suspected he would not need that much protection. He was invincible as long as he had his sword, and there was no way he would allow it out of his sight. He strapped it on, letting it hang at his waist. To his surprise, it was not that heavy.  
  
Legolas picked up his bow and quiver of arrows which were lying on the table and put the quiver on his back. He felt a lot better now, he guessed it was because he had finally woken up. Bow in hand, he strode from his room looking like a youthful spirit going to his doom. He shut his door hurriedly and rushed downstairs to meet with Lord Elrond and Glorfindel. War had begun. 


	19. Armed With Wings

Chapter 19  
  
Lizule knocked softly on Elladan's bedroom door. "Hello?" she whispered. "My Lord, are you there?" Lizule prayed that he was still in his chambers. If he wasn't, that meant he had gone down to meet his father and the rest of the army. She wanted to say good-bye, just in cause if it was her last time seeing him. She shook her head. He was going to survive this. She'd make sure of it somehow.  
  
She knocked again, more insistent this time. "Please be there," she thought as she felt panic swelling up inside of her. "I need to talk to you."  
  
"Come in, Lizule. Sorry I did not answer you sooner," Elladan said as he opened the door for her. "I was speaking with Glorfindel in my drawing room."  
  
The Elf-maiden froze in half step. "What is he doing here?" she demanded. "Shouldn't he be down with Lord Elrond?"  
  
"Glorfindel requested special permission from my father to come up here and "talk" with me. We have been having a splendid time."  
  
"I'm sorry," Lizule said soothingly. "I didn't know."  
  
"It's quite all right," he said, and he took her hand. "I want you to talk to Glorfindel. He has told me something happened last night that he can't explain. He has a feeling that it involves Gabriel wanting revenge on Legolas."  
  
"What did Legolas ever do to him?" she asked in surprise as they headed to the drawing room. She could feel her insides closing up, but she was willing to do anything for her friend, even if she would have to face Glorfindel. Legolas's problems were much more significant than her petty affairs.  
  
"I mean, I know they got in a fight over my feelings, and I will never forgive myself for it. By why would Gabriel want to get Legolas back? Just because Legolas beat him is no legitimate reason to seek revenge."  
  
Elladan smirked. "You would be surprised."  
  
He opened a handsome oak door and led her into the drawing room. Glorfindel was sitting in a wood chair, looking extremely enraged. Lizule gulped. She had a queasy feeling about this. Elladan offered her a sit across from the Elf-lord, and then he sat down next to her. For several mintues, they just stared at each other. Then, Elladan dared to break the silence.  
  
"Glorfindel, will you please explain to me and Lizule, again, why you are so upset with Gabriel."  
  
Glorfindel scowled, his fair face contorting in an unpleasant image. " Yesterday afternoon, he asked if he could use my little Elfling to run an errand. I wasn't too fond of letting him take her, for I worry about her safety all the time. Nevertheless, I let him have her with the promise that he would return her to me before night was over. He agreed, and then left with my Elf-girl in tow. I stayed up till it was starting to get light outside and he still had not returned. I finally fell asleep on my bed and then woke up early this morning. She was sitting in one of my many chairs by the fireplace and she was crying hysterically. I got up quickly and rushed over to her, asking her what was the matter. Through her many sobs, I was able to discern the words book, sword, revenge, hate, lie, Legolas, and switch. I didn't inquire her further because she was so upset. I sent her to her chambers and told her I would take care of it. I believe she is sleeping now."  
  
Lizule's heart had skipped so many beats she was surprised she had not fallen over dead. His story gave her the chills. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms in a vain attempt to warm herself. Elladan seemed to be experiencing the same effect. He cleared his throat many times and then said,  
  
"What do you think Gabriel did?"  
  
Glorfindel shrugged half-heartedly and sighed. "I'm not sure. I do not think we should confront him about it, only because it might add fuel to the fire, if you understand what I mean. I believe the best thing to do is keep quiet, but I would hate to do that if it meant something very bad for Legolas. What do you think?"  
  
"I don't have any plans either. I think you are probably right, Glorfindel. We should stay our tongues and just keep a sharp lookout over Legolas. It's the most logical thing to do."  
  
The Elf-lord nodded. "You are making sense. I won't tell Lord Elrond, but I am going to try to get something out of my Elfling before we go off to attack. Then I might inform Legolas of whatever Gabriel had tried to do."  
  
"Why did you come here in the first place?" Lizule said, her voice quavering. "Did I just say that?" she thought. Elladan and Glorfindel both wore expressions of shock. She bit her tongue and continued. "Why did you have to come tell Elladan, when you could have told someone else? You despise him, don't you?"  
  
The golden-haired Elf was at loss for words. He didn't answer for a while. When he did, his voice was barely audible.  
  
"I came to make a truce with him. I have been acting immature lately, and I have not acknowledged the feelings of others. That is why I am here. We just got on the topic of swords and I told him about what happened last night. That story was not my main purpose for being here," he added defensively.  
  
"Oh." Lizule surely felt stupid now. It seemed that she had to give her opinion on everything nowadays. She would have to learn how to hold her tongue.  
  
"I apologize." Lame, she had to admit, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. There was really noting more to say.  
  
Elladan spoke to clear the uncomfortable silence. "I say we go downstairs and get prepared. The whole legion might have left us by now."  
  
Glorfindel stood, his presence looming over Lizule like a foreboding shadow. "Let's go," he instructed, and Lizule found herself standing and following the He-Elves out of the room.  
  
****  
  
Legolas spoke soothingly to his Arodas as he caressed his skin. The stallion pawed the ground and snorted. He knew a battle was coming. The air was so tense it was difficult to breathe.  
  
The Mirkwood Prince put the silver reins over the horse's head. He then mounted up on the excited stallion, holding him in check. Arodas moved only slightly underneath him. He was willing to obey his master.  
  
Legolas looked around. Many Elves were saying good-bye to their families and hugging each other. Nostalgia overcame him and he closed his eyes, trying to imagine his home. He could still see the faint outline of the trees, the palace, and the many gardens. The tinier details had left his brain, though, and he could not conjure what the exact etchings were that were inscribed on the palace gate. Those memories had abandoned him.  
  
He thought of Laurelin. She was probably out on a trail ride or at the palace performing some errand for his father. She was the princess, after all. She had duties to the people.  
  
"Legolas?" He opened his eyes and saw Lizule was standing next to his restless stallion. "I came to say good luck."  
  
The handsome Elf nodded. He couldn't speak for there was a huge knot forming in his throat.  
  
Lizule seemed to understand and took his hand in hers. "You will win. Remember Haldir, Boromir, and King Theoden. Not only ride for them, but ride for the entire Elvish race." She smiled. "I am sure you already knew all that, and I am just reiterating it. But I want you to realize that all of us are with you. You have my faith and the faith of so many others." She gazed over at Gabriel, but when Legolas followed her stare, she looked away.  
  
"May the Valar be with you, my friend." She kissed his hand, bowed, and walked away, leaving Legolas feeling queasy yet inspired. He took a deep breath and played with the dark mane of his beloved stallion.  
  
Lord Elrond rode to the front of the group. His horse was pearly white, with the longest mane and tail Legolas had ever seen. The horse's eyes were an odd sky blue, and if you looked into them, it was like gazing in a clear pool of rainwater. The mighty Elf-lord sat stern and proud, yet a comforting smile was on his face. Legolas also noticed that Elrond had no armor on the horse, nor did he have any on himself.  
  
"Well, at least he is giving the Orcs a fair chance," thought the Mirkwood Prince as he eyed Elrond's sword. "Then again, the odds are much more in his favor."  
  
The rest of the troops were starting to get restless. Glorfindel was trotting around the army, trying to pull the troops together. No one was paying any attention to him. The horses were stamping their hooves and snorting. The riders were acting and feeling just the same. Hardly any of the army was capable of standing still.  
  
A surge of adrenaline charged through the group when Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel took their place next to Lord Elrond. The Master of Rivendell's stallion reared up but he did not stir. He only withdrew his sword and pointed toward the horizon.  
  
"To War! There will be no dawn for evil!" He cried and his mount took off. The rest of the legion followed, feeding on the words of encouragement from other Elves who were saying good-bye.  
  
Arodas galloped freely, his dark mane whipping Legolas in the face. He only smiled and urged the stallion to go faster. He patted the hilt of his sword to make sure it was still there. It was. His grin broadened and he shook his blond hair in the wind. He couldn't help feeling cheerful. He was invincible, he was going to war, Lord Elrond said the Elves would win the battle, and soon, he would be heading home. He took a deep breath of the air and wrapped his fingers in Arodas's mane. He could feel the other horses pounding behind him, their hooves hardly touching the ground. In front of him, Glorfindel had taken his sword out of his sheath and was pointing it forward. A blinding light was coming from him and his stallion was shimmering. The atmosphere was intensified as Elrond gave a loud war cry and the entire legion responded. His horse jumped at least six feet in the air at the noise and whinnied, it's shrill voice arming the troop with wings. Elladan and Elrohir rode on either side of their father with their swords in their hands. The expression on their faces was sheer determination.  
  
That was when Legolas realized there was no way they could not win. They were all invincible and they could NOT be overcome.  
  
"I wish that Balrog could see us now," Legolas thought happily. "He would be running as fast as his legs could take him in the other direction." 


	20. Death Conquers All

Chapter 20  
  
Legolas and the rest of the army rode hard into the night. When the stars started to come out and the moon set a tiny wave of light across the ground, Elrond halted the mass of people and waited, his all-seeing eyes darting this way and that.  
  
"They should come to us," he murmured, only audible to the most keenest of Elves.  
  
Legolas gulped and tightened up the hold on his reins. Arodas snorted in response. The Elf Prince scanned the horizon, searching for a sign of any animate life. But there was nothing. The only thing that moved was the wind, and as it passed through the riders it ruffled their hair. Legolas took a deep breath and reached behind his back gingerly for an arrow. The dead silence was too uncanny for comfort. He knew something was amiss.  
  
Apparently, the horses did too. They started to paw the ground, and Elrond's stallion rose on its hind legs before settling back down on all fours. Its stance was fierce, and its long mane danced in the wind. Legolas marveled at the quintessential beauty of the stallion. It was evident that this horse did in fact belong to Lord Elrond.  
  
The Master of Rivendell appeared nonchalant, but his eyes gave himself away. They were laden with wariness as he sat rigid, not moving a muscle.  
  
"Withdraw your weapons," he said in an indifferent voice, and everyone hastily did as they were told. Glorfindel was sitting atop Asfaloth with his eyes closed. He had not stirred when Elrond had commanded them to prepare, and he continued to sit quietly, as if he were concentrating hard on some unknown thing. Several of the riders were staring at him with concern.  
  
After several minutes, he opened his eyes. "They are coming," he whispered, and he took out his sword, his hand shaking.  
  
Before anyone could respond, out of the never-ending darkness appeared a huge army of Orcs. The horses' ears went back and the army strung their arrows with much ado. Only Elrond did not fire. The first line of the Orcs fell, but they kept on coming, walking over their dead accomplices. Legolas felt Arodas shiver underneath the saddle. He was not sure if it was out of fear or excitement.  
  
The army prepared to fire again, but Elrond stopped them. "Swords!" He cried, and soon everyone was trading his bow for a weapon of shining metal. Legolas withdrew his sword and glanced at the inscription. He noticed it was not there.  
  
Puzzled, he held it closer to his eyes, but still he could not see it. He ran his hand over the hilt, which was shaped differently than Glamdrigul's. Then, sickening dread came over him when he realized it was not Totholain's sword. It was Gabriel's.  
  
Anger and panic rushed through his veins as he looked around for Gabriel. He spotted the traitor over on the outskirts of the army, looking very scared and forlorn. He urged his horse toward him, but before he even got Arodas to take a step forward, the Orcs were upon them, giving the Elven army no time to charge.  
  
Legolas forgot about Gabriel and concentrated on keeping himself and his horse alive. For the most part, Arodas handled the attack fairly well; he kept himself balanced and helped Legolas where he needed it. There were a couple of slight mishaps, but Legolas was able to cover them. They made it all the way through the onslaught and soon, the Orcs were dead, their carcasses piled on the blood-drenched land.  
  
When Legolas finished slaying his last, he galloped up to Elrond to tell him he did not have the correct sword and that he should probably go back to Rivendell to retrieve it. But he never got to say anything, for the Balrog had come up from behind the horrible servants of Sauron and was wielding his fiery whip. There was no time.  
  
Arodas stopped dead and let out a cry of fear. He spun on his hind legs and headed as fast as he could in the other direction. Legolas pulled hard on the reins and the terrified horse slid to a stop, but his body was trembling all over. Legolas turned the horse around and croaked, "Go back."  
  
Legolas didn't really want to go back, but he knew he had a duty to his race and he could not abandon it now. He gave the horse a nudge of encouragement despite his bad feelings.  
  
The stallion walked slowly back to where Elrond, Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir, and Erestor were mounted on their horses. They all appeared tranquil and serene. Legolas and Arodas stood behind them, the stallion shaking the entire time. The Elf Prince felt his stomach churn.  
  
The Balrog scoffed at the six riders who stood before him as if they were annoying pests. He lashed his whip at Elrond, but by some divine power, the Master of Rivendell had put an invisible shield of protection around himself and his horse so they could not be harmed. The rest of the army watched in anticipation and fright.  
  
"Don't feel so powerful, do you now, demon?" He said in a haughty voice, quite unlike his own. His sword was shimmering as he held it, and the stallion was shimmering also, his bright eyes illuminated with white-hot balls of fire. He snorted and nipped at the air, his head rolling.  
  
The Balrog roared, and all six riders were knocked to the ground. Legolas grabbed for Arodas so he wouldn't run away, but he didn't need to. The loyal horse stood as still as a stone, his stare directed at the evil spirit. He would not move.  
  
Glorfindel started to glow so fiercely Legolas had to squint. Through half- closed eyelids the Mirkwood Prince saw the Balrog recoil at the light and back away.  
  
"Attack!" yelled Elrond, and the six riders and six horses ran toward him. Legolas raised the sword, forgetting that he was no longer invincible, remembering only the pain he felt when Theoden and Snowmane had fallen at Pelennor. He charged.  
  
The Balrog was surprised at the sudden attack of the Elves, but he did not flee. Instead, he sprinted towards them, his dragon wings stretching out, making him even bigger. No one faltered, they kept on running.  
  
Glorfindel was the one who hit him first, his body and sword blazing. The impact was so great the golden-haired Elf was thrown into the air. He landed on his feet and plunged his sparkling sword back into the beast's hide. The Balrog groaned and swung blindly at the Elf, but Glorfindel was too quick for him. He repeatedly stabbed him over and over until Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir rushed in.  
  
Elrond strung his bow and shot an arrow into his eye. The Elf King's horse ran at the Balrog and plunged its head into the demon's chest. The Balrog fell to the ground, but not before he wound his whip around the beautiful stallion's legs. The horse was cast upwards, its silky mane flying wildly, and it stayed in the air for several seconds until it hit the ground with a revolting thud. It did not stir.  
  
Legolas was enraged at the way such a glorious creature had to die. He threw himself into the battle, stabbing here and there, unaware that his sword was doing absolutely nothing. The only thing that was driving him was pure, mortal hate. Hate for evil, hate for Sauron, hate for death and all its sorrow. He just wanted it to end.  
  
The sun came up on the horizon, and it bathed the land in warm rays. The Balrog started back towards the trees with the Elves and horses still on him. He drug his body along the dirt ground to no avail, for he knew he was bleeding internally, and soon, he would be dead. The rest of the army watched the blessed Elves slay the Balrog. When its final breath was taken, Legolas dropped his sword and went to where Elrond's horse lay. Its eyes were closed, and when heran his hand along its fur, it was cold to the touch. He placed his head on the stallion's body and closed his eyes.  
  
"You were divine," he told the horse. "You deserve a place among the Valar."  
  
Legolas stood and glanced up at the sun. Its light was weak, but the little light that was there was warming the body of the wonderful horse. He smiled, oblivious to the fact that Elrond was running towards him, waving frantically, his mouth moving but no words coming out.  
  
He didn't even feel it when the sword entered his body. The handsome Elf took a step backward out of shock and gaped at his attacker. The Orc was grinning wickedly, his teeth and face coated in dried blood. The ugly thing was on his knees, but his smile was triumphant. Elrond beheaded the Orc briskly and then rushed over to Legolas.  
  
"Are you okay?" He breathed, his face contorted in a die-cast image of fear.  
  
~ Fear of what? He just won the war. He has nothing to fear ~  
  
"So this is what dying feels like," Legolas mumbled. He looked down at his stomach and saw the handle of the sword sticking out. Furious that it was still there, he bit his tongue and grabbed the sword. With one, swift, very painful motion, he pulled the dreaded object out of his body. He felt his eyes waver and he collapsed at the excruciating pain.  
  
He fell backwards, but Elrond caught him before he could hit the ground. He cradled the dying Elf in his lap.  
  
"Legolas, look at me, you must stay with me. Please. Legolas, can you hear me? Think of Laurelin and Mirkwood. That's it. Keep your eyes open. We will get you home."  
  
Arodas came up and nuzzled the back of his master's neck, a baffled look on his face. Elrond pushed his roaming nose away. "Not now," he said softly.  
  
Legolas sighed and gazed hazily at the Elf King's face. "Everything that has a beginning has an end. You told me this was going to happen; I did not have Totholain's sword. I didn't take your words to heart."  
  
He turned his head and glanced at his horse. He patted the worried stallion on the nose. "It'll be okay. You were a fine horse, my boy. I will never forget you."  
  
The Elf Prince was near death. He could feel it creeping up on him, like a malevolent beast waiting to strike its fatal blow. "Elrond," he said weakly, "Could you please tell Laurelin that everything will be okay, and that she will be with me soon."  
  
Comprehension dawned on the King's face as he nodded. "Anything you wish, Legolas Greenleaf."  
  
Legolas gasped, he was having a hard time getting oxygen to his lungs. He felt blood trickle slowly down his chin and onto his clothing. To concentrate on something other than the pain, Legolas focused his stare on Elrond's angelic face. That's when he remembered.  
  
"One more thing. Totholain's sword. Please return it to its resting-place. Where it belongs. Where it always belonged."  
  
He then closed his eyes and his spirit fled up to the heavens, all the way to the Hall of Mandos.  
  
Elrond shooed away the frenzied onlookers and motioned for Glorfindel to get Arodas. The golden-haired Elf seemed grief-stricken as he led the distraught horse away, which kept on stealing glances back at its owner. Arodas did not understand that he was dead.  
  
The Master of Rivendell placed his hand on Legolas's chest and said a prayer to Eru. When he finished, he picked the body up and walked over to where Elladan was standing with his horse, Orion.  
  
"Can you carry him back with you?" Elrond asked his son. "I have no horse."  
  
Elladan squeaked out a "yes," and laid the body upon Orion. He then mounted the stallion while holding Legolas firmly in place.  
  
"Go ahead and take the army home," Elrond told Erestor, who had ridden up. "We can come back tonight for the rest of the bodies and bury them in the morning."  
  
Erestor nodded and motioned for the remaining Elves and horses to follow him. Elrond watched them as they disappeared from sight.  
  
The dark-haired Elf looked back at his dead horse. The stallion had been his most prized possession, he had fought with it through many wars, and it had always remained faithful. Now, its demise seemed too much to bear, next to the murder of Legolas. His wife had adored that horse. What was she going to say when he came to Valinor without it?  
  
The Elf King glanced around for a free horse he could ride back to Imladris. He saw a frantic jet-black stallion tangled up in a mass pile of deceased Elves and Orcs. He strode over to it and laid a comforting hand on its sweat-streaked shoulder.  
  
"I'll take you home," he breathed. "It'll be okay." He freed the reins and was about to mount when he heard a muffled voice coming from the ground.  
  
"Did he die?"  
  
Gabriel squirmed in agony as he withered his way out of the pile. His left arm was missing, but in his right arm he held Totholain's sword. Blood stained the edges.  
  
Elrond shook his head sadly. Now he understood  
  
"It would not save you, Gabriel. It would only save who it was intended to save."  
  
"So he is dead, I presume?" Gabriel asked, his voice quite melancholy. "I killed both of us, and Laurelin too. I'm a murderer. I never intended." The last words trailed off as blood came up through his mouth and ran into the river of red on the ground.  
  
Elrond placed two fingers on Gabriel's neck. He was gone.  
  
Straightening back up, the Elf King took the sword and swung up on to the stallion. He clucked, and it raced off in a full-fledged gallop after the army. The sun followed them, her tears of mourning coming down in the form of bitter rain.  
  
****  
  
"Something's not right," Laurelin commented to Thranduil as she sat beside him, deciphering old scrolls and studying maps of Middle-Earth. They had been at since the wee hours of the morning.  
  
"What do you mean?" He said only half-interestingly, for he was concentrating on a scroll that dated back to the First Age and had been written by King Thingol.  
  
"The air. It's so tense, like something is about to break. Or maybe it already is broken."  
  
Thranduil chuckled. "You have a vivid imagination! Maybe it was a mistake having you read these accounts so early in the morning. Go back to bed. You can continue to help me after you catch up on your sleep."  
  
"Thank you, my father. I will." She left the King's study and headed towards her chambers. When she passed an open window, she peeked outside. The sun was out, but was fogged over by some clouds. It was drizzling slightly.  
  
~ What an odd day ~  
  
When she got to her room she opened the door and flopped down on the bed instantly, taking in the aroma that was still left of Legolas. She closed her eyes and imagined him riding into battle, courage in his eyes and strength in his hands, his long blond hair billowing out behind him. She smiled and opened her eyes and let them drift to where the rose was.  
  
Her heart skipped two beats.  
  
The beautiful radiant rose, so lively several hours ago, was now lifeless and gray. She jumped from the bed and raced over to it. She picked it up and shook it in a state of denial, thinking that it was just in some sort of trance, and maybe she could wake it up somehow.  
  
~ No. This can't be happening. Nothing is wrong. It's not dead ~  
  
But as she shook it and shook it and shook it, she realized that no matter how many times she shook it, it would still be dead. Like Legolas.  
  
"No." The words froze on her numb lips as the shock hit her like a tidal wave. "It can't be."  
  
Legolas couldn't die. He was invulnerable, unconquerable. Death could not affect him. It would bounce off his body and go back to where it belonged. It didn't belong in him. She couldn't, she wouldn't believe it.  
  
It had to be a mistake. The rose had to be wrong. He wasn't supposed to die. But Totholain had warned her, hadn't he? He had said if he left he would never come back?  
  
Totholain was mistaken. He was dying when he told her that, he couldn't have known what he was saying. He killed himself. Only a madman would do that.  
  
No. Legolas was alive and well, and he would soon be returning to her and they would raise a happy family. Satisfied with her explanation, she went to place the rose back in its vase.  
  
It caught on fire and burned in her hand. The pain paralyzed her, but she ignored it. She watched the rose burn until it was just mere ashes in her palm. All that was left of her Legolas.  
  
"HE IS NOT DEAD!" she screamed to all that was left of the white rose. "YOU LIAR, YOU FILTHY LIAR!" She ran outside to the balcony and dumped the ashes. She looked out over the trees and saw an eagle soaring high in the sky, water dripping from its outstretched wings.  
  
Totholain.  
  
"YOU KILLED HIM!" Laurelin stopped and froze when she realized what she said. She had just admitted that Legolas was dead. She was the traitor. She was the one who killed him, not Totholain. She didn't stop him from going. It was all her fault. He was murdered because of her.  
  
"NO!" She wailed and then flung herself on the bed and sobbed into the blanket. "You can't leave me."  
  
She continued to weep, her cries muffled by the sound of the pouring rain.  
  
**** 


	21. Tears For the Night

Chapter 21  
  
"Lord Erestor is coming! Lord Erestor is coming! Harken! The army is returning!" The herald cried, running frantically through the halls. "They are approaching!"  
  
Lizule snapped her head up at the herald's voice. Excitement built up inside of her and she stood, knocking her chair over in the process. Paying it no heed, she bolted out of her room and into the dreary rain. She put up her hood and squinted, standing on tiptoes to see over the tall heads of some of the male Elves. Through the gloomy fog she saw Erestor leading the army out of the trees. Her heart fell at the sight of them. They looked so dispirited, especially Erestor. She scanned the legion for sign of Elladan and Legolas, hoping that they had survived.  
  
She saw Elrohir riding on his horse with his head bowed, but she looked beyond him. She spotted Orion's brown-flecked coat through the mass of white and gray. He was walking very slowly, and his normally erected head was down, with his mane flopping from side to side. Elladan was clutching to something that was in front of the saddle. It was brown and was covered in red. As they grew closer, she realized with horror that it was a body. Her veins started to pulse and her heart began to beat wildly. She took a deep breath, but when she saw Elrond ride to the front on Gabriel's horse, she knew something was drastically wrong and her breathing accelerated.  
  
She broke from the crowd and sprinted towards Elladan, her long cloak soaking up grass and mud along the way. She ignored the baffled faces on the riders and went up to the Elf Prince. She was about to ask him what was going on when she recognized the face on the body. It was Legolas.  
  
She took a step back and gasped. Elladan reached for her, but she sidestepped his grasp. She looked around, praying that this wasn't happening, that the husband of her best friend wasn't draped over a horse, dried blood coated on his face, his blue eyes extinguished. But when Glorfindel passed, leading a melancholy looking Arodas behind Asfaloth, she knew that Legolas was dead. She couldn't escape the inevitable truth.  
  
"Lizule, I'm so sorry. I wish this never happened." Lizule glanced up at him and saw that his normally kind eyes were lined with tears. All the love and joy that he usually with held was gone. Pain and grief had replaced it.  
  
Pity for herself and him filled her. She took his hand and kissed it in a vain attempt to make them both feel better. To her dismay, it didn't work. He smiled weakly and stroked her hair.  
  
He offered her his hand and she swung up behind him, resting her head on his back. He urged his battle-worn horse on, through the mud and into the heart of Rivendell. Elves called out with voices of concern, but she did not acknowledge them. They did not know that one more member of The Fellowship of the Ring had died and was never coming back. His immortality did not save him. It abandoned him when he needed it most, just when he was going to start a family. She tightened her hold on Elladan's cloak, trying to rid herself of the excruciating distress.  
  
As Lizule rode the exhausted stallion to the stables, she cried silently, saving her sobs for the dark of night when no one else would hear her.  
  
****  
  
"Out of the 2,500 Elves we sent to battle, only a rough estimate of 900 have returned unscathed. 250 are recovering from their wounds, and the rest are dead."  
  
Elrond sighed, his face hidden behind his hands so Erestor could not see his expression. He was so tired, yet there was so much that had to be done, so much grieving that had to be exorcised. It was all too much, even for such a mighty Elf-lord.  
  
"We return tonight for the dead. They shall all receive a proper burial. The families can go with you if they so choose."  
  
Erestor nodded and bowed, his sword hitting the floor. "I will report the message."  
  
The Master of Rivendell watched the younger Elf leave through the part in his hands. When Erestor was gone, he stood up and went outside, relishing in the pleasure of raindrops washing over his sullied face. So many Elves had lost their lives. Had it been worth going to such extreme measures to exterminate evil forever? Even with his extensive wisdom Elrond was not sure.  
  
He thought of what might have been Legolas's fate if Gimli had not died. He reminisced back to about eighty years ago, when Legolas was considering sailing to the Undying Lands. At that time, the Elf Prince and some Woodland Elves were living in Ithilien, part of Gondor's massive cities. Legolas had built a gray boat for himself and the Dwarf, but just when he had finished, Gimli had been killed in a mining accident in the Glittering Caves. Since Aragorn had passed away only two years before, Legolas had been beyond consolation and returned to his birthplace immediately.  
  
Elrond leaned against the railings of his balcony as his all-seeing, all- knowing eyes took in the agonizing plight Rivendell was in. The rain never stopped coming down, it was constant, steadfast. It would never relent.  
  
Just like Elbereth would never relent. She had succeeded. Totholain had been unable to stop her. He had failed to protect the young lovers. And Elrond had failed too. She would get Laurelin's life as planned and then would continue about her usual business. Even if Elrond tried to stop her, he had neither the time nor the energy. His power was almost gone, too. Soon he would be just another Elf who happened to bear Gil-galad's ring. It was all so final and absolute. He hated it.  
  
Elrond was so involved in his thoughts he did not hear Glorfindel come up behind him. When Glorfindel laid a hand on his shoulder, he jumped and spun around, his green eyes flashing.  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I just thought you might want this." Glorfindel placed the Evenstar in Elrond's palm and closed his hand. "I retrieved it from Legolas's chambers. It is no use to him anymore."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Glorfindel smiled sadly. "The horses have all been bedded down in their stalls so they can rest. I am going to ask Lizule permission to ride Gloried, for Asfaloth is extremely tired and I don't think he could even carry me. Are you coming with us to bring back the bodies, my Lord?" Glorfindel asked cautiously. "I mean, I understand if you say no. But I'd be in charge then, and to tell you the honest truth, I don't trust myself for such an important duty. I'd be much relieved if you came."  
  
Elrond shook his head and placed his hand on Glorfindel's shoulder. "I trust you. Take as many healthy Elves and horses as possible to assist you and bring back the dead Elves. You can abandon the deceased horses, for I fear that it would be too much work to haul their bodies back to Imladris also."  
  
The golden-haired Elf looked shocked. "But what about YOUR horse? Even him? Even Apollo?"  
  
Elrond swallowed hard and glanced out over the dew-stained houses. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "Even Apollo."  
  
**** "Lizule, I was wondering if you would come out into the gardens and with me. It is such a pretty night," Elladan asked while leaning on the Elf Maiden's chair. " I think we both could use a little bit of fresh air."  
  
Lizule shook her head and buried herself deeper into her pillow. "I fear the dark," she choked out. "I'd much rather stay in here, where it is safe."  
  
Elladan furrowed his brow. "Your safe in Rivendell all the time, no matter where you are. You'll be fine."  
  
"I DON'T WANT."  
  
"Excuse me, but Lizule, I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."  
  
The distressed Elf raised her head at the voice. Glorfindel was standing in her doorway holding his sword. His stance showed that he was exhausted. She picked her words carefully.  
  
"What's the favor?"  
  
Glorfindel shifted uncomfortably and then said, "Well, Asfaloth is fatigued and deeply depressed. I do not want to make him go out on the battlefield again to retrieve the dead, so I was hoping that you could lend me Gloried, I mean, if he is in fine health and everything," he added quickly.  
  
When he saw her expression, he winced. "I'd understand if you don't give him to me, but I'm not asking the favor on behalf of myself. I'm asking it for all the families who lost someone they loved in the battle. Please don't think of it as a sacrifice but more as a blessing for those Elves who will never see their loved ones again."  
  
The Elf-maiden sighed and brushed back her hair. Should she let him take Gloried? After he had refused to heal the magnificent creature? But then again, this wasn't for him. It was for the grieving Elves of Rivendell. She could not be selfish.  
  
She glanced over at Elladan and read the answer he would give in his eyes.  
  
"Yes, you may take him. Just be careful." She prayed that this was a good decision.  
  
Glorfindel smiled and shot her a look of gratitude. "Thank you, my Lady." He closed the door slowly behind him.  
  
Elladan and Lizule sat in silence for a moment, forgetting about their previous argument. She then remembered Isitur and Gabriel and how she had not seen them coming from the battlefield. It took all her courage to ask the Elf Prince, for she was afraid of the response he might give her.  
  
"Are Gabriel and Isitur okay? I mean, did they survive?"  
  
Elladan sighed and shook his head. "Isitur sustained a sword wound in his side. He is alive, but it will take time for him to recuperate. Lots of time. And as for Gabriel." Elladan's tone changed into an angry whisper. "As for Gabriel, he died, but not before killing Legolas in the process."  
  
Lizule gasped. "What do you mean?" She was horrorstruck. "Did what Glorfindel say come true?"  
  
"In a way. Gabriel took Legolas's sword in an effort to protect his own hide, with no consideration for the affect it could have on Legolas. It turned out the traitor died just minutes after Legolas."  
  
Lizule clapped a hand to her mouth. Her whole body was becoming numb. "That's horrible!"  
  
"Yes, but it is what my father told me, and I will never go against his word. Erestor backed him up, and as you know, Erestor can't lie."  
  
"It's so hard to believe. Gabriel was such a kind Elf, and he loved us all. I wonder what changed him?"  
  
Elladan got up and sat down on her bed. He took her hand in his warm palm and said,  
  
"Jealousy and fear."  
  
****  
  
Lizule was packing her belongings when Elrond came in. He wore a silver headdress upon his brow and his ring gleamed in the light. She smiled faintly at the Elf King and bowed while she folded a dress.  
  
"May I help you, my Lord?" She was careful to keep the conversation formal, for she was still in awe of him and he did deserve an esteemed title.  
  
"I came here to ask you something, but first I must inquire why you are putting all of your clothes and possessions into that chest? Surely you are not going somewhere, with Legolas's knighting and all."  
  
The Elf maiden froze and turned slowly to Elrond. Had she heard correct? She thought that Elrond had just said Legolas was going to be knighted, or in other words, proclaimed an Elf Lord. But they couldn't do that to an Elf who was already dead.  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
Elrond beamed and sat down in one of the many chairs that flanked her chambers. "Legolas is going to receive and Elf Lord's funeral and burial rites. But we are taking his body back to Mirkwood to perform the ceremony. I think he would have preferred to be buried there, anyway."  
  
"And I have something to tell Laurelin, by Legolas's wishes," Elrond murmured inaudibly under his breath.  
  
Lizule shook her head, she was not sure she understood. "What did he do to obtain an Elf Lord's rites?"  
  
The Elf King continued to smile at her ignorance. "He died thinking about everyone but himself. That selflessness is only seen in the best of Elves. He was unselfish his entire life, willing to give anything and everything for the people he loved. He is an Elf worth remembering." Lizule nodded. "He most surely was."  
  
There was an awkward silence for about half a minute until Lizule cleared her throat.  
  
"So what did you want to ask me, my Lord?" Thinking about Legolas was painful. She wanted to change the subject.  
  
"Ah, yes. I wanted to know if you still loved my son, Elladan."  
  
"Of course I do." Why was he asking her this? Did he question her loyalty?  
  
"Good. Then you of course would not object to marriage." The Elf King's bluntness surprised her.  
  
"But- But my Lord, I am going back to live in Mirkwood with the other Silvans. I am not of the Noldor. I do not think I will be able to marry your son, as much as I wish it." She hung her head in shame. "I do not think that I am worthy."  
  
Elrond chuckled and cupped his hand under her jaw. He raised her head and looked her in the eye.  
  
"I, Lord Elrond, King of the Eldar, bearer of the ring Vilya, disagree with that statement."  
  
Lizule did not argue back. She was too scared to rebuke him. His tone was frightening.  
  
"If it can be arranged, will you marry Elladan and remain here in Rivendell?" It was more of a demand that a question, but she took her time in answering it. She thought of how grieved Laurelin would be to learn of Legolas's death, and how she would need a good friend. But Retkia was there, and so was Thranduil.  
  
So Laurelin would be okay. But Lizule could recall Gabriel's anger when he was told of her love for Glorfindel. What if Gabriel was alive right now? What would he say?  
  
But Gabriel was not alive. He had succumbed to greed and had burned in his own misery. His opinion should not matter to her. He was dead.  
  
The Elf maiden smiled, her face relaxed and at ease. She had made her decision. "I would love to."  
  
****  
  
Laurelin gripped the edge of her bed and tried to stand up on her feet. She fell yet again to the ground, her face hidden behind two long locks of blonde hair. She gritted her teeth and tried again, pouring all her energy and effort into standing. She finally succeeded and stood, her legs shaking uncontrollably.  
  
The Elf Maiden was not aware that shock and trauma had settled into her legs and was beginning to paralyze her. All she knew was that she had to tell someone before the knowledge of Legolas's death devoured her from the inside. She groped for the end of the bed covers, her vision slightly blurred because of the tears that would never stop coming. When she reached the end of the bed, she got down on her hands and knees and crawled towards the chamber door. She opened it with a grunt and slid her body down the never-ending hallway to the stairs.  
  
She closed her eyes and let herself fall, hitting the stone ledges several times until she came in contact with the ground floor of the dining room. She remained still to recover her strength, the pain was horrible but she felt like she deserved it, and she welcomed it. Blood oozed out from under a deep gash in her back, but she didn't notice that her gown was sopping it up. She staggered out of the dining room and into the King's study where she had been just several hours before. Thranduil was staring open mouthed at her, his quill frozen in midair, a horrified expression on his face.  
  
He seemed to fumble for words, but nothing came. Laurelin scooted herself next to him and was able to whimper "Legolas is gone," before she stood straight up and raced out of the room. Thranduil called after her, his chair scraping the floor, but she knew he was coming, and she didn't care. She would beat him.  
  
She scrambled up the stairs, they were rather slippery, for they were coated in some strange red liquid. She stumbled back to her bedroom and out to the balcony. The night was cold, and it chilled her down to the bones.  
  
Laurelin stood up on the railing and looked out over the treetops. The moon was staring to rise and it lit the trees beautifully. The roses beneath her bloomed to the greatest extent possible, their roots refreshed by the rain. She imagined Legolas's face in the rising of the moon, his long, golden hair and striking blue eyes, and how she would never see him again. How she had killed him. She closed her eyes and jumped, never knowing that Thranduil had been just inches away from pulling her off the balcony, but he wouldn't have been able to save her.  
  
She was dead before she ever hit the ground. She had bled to death standing on the railing of the balcony. Her body landed in the flowers, and they cradled her in a comforting embrace. The moon kept on shining.  
  
Author's Note: Don't worry this is not the end! I will definitely have an epilogue and maybe even a few more chapters. Please be patient and I will have the end of this story up in record time! 


	22. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
FIVE YEARS LATER  
  
Lizule smiled as the young mares and stallions frolicked in the sea of grass. One of the stallions, much more superior than the rest, rose on his hind legs and whinnied. Light cast down upon his brow, showing off the white star that rested on his finely sculpted head. The horse shook his mane of snow and let his forelock fall in front of his face, shielding his eyes from the blinding sun. Ainalad, which meant literally "holy valley" was rumored to be the most beautiful horse in all of Middle-earth, far surpassing Shadowfax. And it was no wonder, for his dam was Galada, and his sire, Arodas.  
  
Ainalad snorted and rested his forefeet on the soft earth. The stallions eyed him warily, but the mares took an instant liking to the golden stallion. Although he was only four, he was much larger than his companions, partly because of the build up of muscle that enveloped his body. His coat was a rare golden color that was only found in the deep places of the world. But what was most spectacular about him was the sign he bore on his left hindquarters. No bigger than a plum, yet large enough for all to see, was the mark of the Valar, in the form of a silmaril.  
  
When the stallion had been born, Galada had died immediately after his birth. Without a mother to raise him, and no other mares fit for the job, Thranduil was faced with the difficult decision of murdering the innocent colt. One of the things that stopped him was mark upon Ainalad's side. The Mirkwood King sent the foal to Lord Elrond, knowing that the Master of Rivendell needed another horse. Elrond quickly took to the stallion and raised him with his bare hands. Ainalad became the greatest and strongest horse in Middle-earth. He was as swift as the wind and as gentle as a lamb. With the Valar's supreme blessing, the palomino stallion could do no wrong.  
  
Lizule whistled shrilly and the horses stopped their playing. They galloped up to her, with Ainalad in the lead. His long, white mane streamed out behind him, like a swan gliding over a lake. She placed a hand on his velvet muzzle and blew softly into his nostrils. He returned her greeting by breathing lightly on her. The Elf Maiden picked up the silver halter that was lying in the grass and put it on Ainalad. She then led him back to the stables, the rest of the horses following in her stead.  
  
Rivendell's stables were expansive, for just three years before, Elrond had ordered for the construction of twenty new stalls, in addition to the already existing thirty. There were two wings: one for the visiting horses, and one for the stationary horses. All the creatures Lizule was leading belonged in the stationary wing, which consisted of thirty-five stalls. As she opened the mapple door, Gloried thrust his head out of his huge stall and hit her squarely in the back. She spun around to reprimand him, but the expression on his face melted her heart. She brushed his forelock out of his eyes and kissed him on the nose.  
  
"Sorry I haven't paid a bit more attention to you, love, I've been busy. I promise when Elrond and Elladan come back from Mirkwood I will take you out for a ride."  
  
The silver stallion snorted his disapproval, but butted her gently and then disappeared inside his stall. Lizule chided Ainalad and the other horses into the stable and then shut the door. They started down the long passageway, towards the end. The stalls toward the front of the stable were full, so she didn't stop until they were at least halfway down. She opened a stall on her left and led Ainalad in. It wasn't as big as Gloried's; the horses who had lived longer and proved their value received the nicest stalls. But still, his stall was not at all shabby for a high-strung four- year-old. She patted his flank as he passed, undid his halter, and continued with putting the horses away until the sun had gone down and the moon started to rise, casting silver shadows across the earth. She automatically walked towards Orion's stall to say goodnight, but with a jolt, she remembered he wasn't there. Glorfindel's horse, Asfaloth, had been borrowed by Elrond, so he wasn't there either. The stable seemed empty without those two proud stallions in their stalls. She paused at Gloried's stall and bid him sweet dreams and then put up her hood. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. Lizule threw open the stable door, stepped outside, slammed it shut, and bolted up the hill at a run. She didn't stop until she was under the warm, familiar lights of The Last Homely House. She still had an intense fear of the dark.  
  
When she was comfortable in her chambers and had on her night-robe, she opened the balcony windows. A calm, refreshing breeze drifted in, riding her of present worries. She flipped her black hair over her shoulder and leaned against the window frame while she observed the night. It was quiet and serene, but every so often an owl would hoot or a horse would neigh. But those sounds were part of the world, just like every blade of grass was part of the earth. It did not bother her.  
  
She left the windows and sat down in a chair across the room. She tilted her head back and imagined where Elladan was at that precise moment. He was probably in the vast forests Mirkwood, riding hard in the night, with his father at his side. She was sure they had left the realm, but when they would be returning to Rivendell was hard to approximate. She could only hope it would be soon.  
  
She wasn't sure though. The sudden, shocking death of King Thranduil had unearthed everyone. Elrond and Elladan had left the exact day they had received the news. Lizule could recall how she had begged Elladan to stay and send someone else in his stead. He had refused and ridden off without a backward glance. That had been nearly a month ago.  
  
So she was in charge of what happened around Rivendell, but right under her, giving orders as always, was Glorfindel. Normally it would have been Elrohir, but he had left for the Undying Lands with Isitur and a small group of wearied Elves about a year before. It would only be a matter of time before the rest of the Rivendell Elves would depart too. Lizule hoped to be a member of that exodus.  
  
She could feel her throat close up, but she swallowed hard. It was hard to understand Thranduil's passing. The messenger said he had wanted to leave Mirkwood, but his exhausted heart would have given out before he would have reached the Grey Havens. The Mirkwood King never did trust the security of the palace gates, and he had hid behind locked doors in fear. Obviously, Thranduil had given way to despair at the loss of his son and daughter-in- law, and being trapped in Mirkwood hadn't helped. He had succumbed to death. The last of Legolas was gone... forever.  
  
Lizule blinked her eyes furiously and forced herself to think about something else. But her mind wandered to Retkia, and her vision blurred. Retkia had gone mad at the loss and betrayal of Gabriel. She was declared insane by the King and put under close scrutiny in the palace. Unfortunately, one night she escaped from Mirkwood and was never seen again. A search party went out for her, but all they recovered was her torn and tattered cloak. Some said she had been attacked, others warned that she was living in the forest and feeding off the still-existing black squirrels. The thought of either of those fates' stabbed Lizule right in the heart. She could not imagine her friend in such a dire plight. She shivered and drew her robe around her frigid body, although the room was not cold. She laid her head down on the armrest of the chair and was soon fast asleep.  
  
When she came to, an angelic form of life was standing over her. She studied it through half-closed eyelids in a secret attempt to figure out what it was. To her dismay, it was none other than Glorfindel, tapping his foot impatiently with his eyes set in an angry glare. She tried to rid herself of disappointment. She had hoped it was Elladan.  
  
Lizule shook her head, sat up, and stared straight back at him with pure venom.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You have overslept and the elder horses need turning out. Unless you propose to ride each and every one of them, of course. Don't let me stop you."  
  
Lizule narrowed her eyes at the sword that was tied to belt. "Where are you off to?" The only time an Elf bore a weapon anymore was when he or she was traveling a great distance.  
  
"What business is it of yours?" His tone was dangerous.  
  
"I have every right to know. I am the one in charge here, not you. I could order you to stay. Now tell me."  
  
Glorfindel smirked. "I am going to Mirkwood. Elladan has requested to come home, for he worries about you. We are exchanging places, but I am sure he is already halfway here by now."  
  
"What do you need me for?" She was delighted to know Elladan would be home soon.  
  
The Elf Lord glanced around nervously. "I have tried countless times to conjure up a horse from Rohan or Gondor, but as you well know, they are not considered property, but a living being. Therefore, I cannot take one. I am here to ask you if I can borrow Gloried."  
  
For some unknown reason, Lizule felt her heart rise. The last time she had lent Gloried to him, it was so he could bring back the dead. She winced at the memory, but as she did, she got an idea.  
  
"Only if you agree to something."  
  
"What is it?" He looked skeptical.  
  
"We have fought so much through our words and tones, and to tell you the truth, I am sick of it. So I say we call a truce. We are both even. I am positive it will delight Lord Elrond to know we are no longer "at war." What say you?"  
  
Glorfindel's brow furrowed as he pondered her offer. Finally he sighed and nodded reluctantly. "I will abide by your terms. But I must go now."  
  
He rushed out of the room, his white cloak following obediently. Lizule smiled faintly and felt like a whole load of rocks had been taken off her shoulders. She would no longer have to fend off his snide comments, and he would no longer have to ask so politely to use Gloried. But then reason struck her. Why didn't he use one of the other horses?  
  
Elrond had plenty of sure-footed stallions and mares that would bear Glorfindel well. Why did he insist on using Gloried when he could spare himself the humiliation of asking and just take a stable horse? She could not fathom it. She decided it was because he felt closer to that stallion and wanted a horse he could rely on. Pleased with her assumption, she dressed, combed her hair, and asked one of the maids to bring her up a breakfast of cheese and bread. Lizule devoured the food greedily, stuck an extra slice of bread in her pocket, and then went downstairs to the main hall. A few servants were passing by, and bowed to her as she entered, but there wasn't anyone else she knew or recognized. She glanced over towards the library and saw Glorfindel racing about, stuffing a brown leather bag with ancient scrolls. He hasitly grabbed a couple books off a shelf and put them under his arm. Lizule blinked, and then he was gone. He had exited through the opposite door, which was closer to the stables.  
  
Deciding that she should probably let the elder horses out in the paddocks, as Glorfindel had instructed, she followed him. The sun's rays were weak, but the air was warm, and the buildup of tension in her body drained. Cold, dreary weather scared her, only because it brought back horrible memories, memories she did not want to remember. Still, she drew her gray cloak around her and opened the stable door. Gloried's stall door was open, but he was still in it, dozing quietly. She went into his stall and stroked him gently.  
  
"I'll miss you, my love, but Glorfindel is a good rider and he will take care of you. Just make sure he doesn't push you harder than you can go."  
  
The horse nickered affectionately and nuzzled her side pocket. She chuckled and relinquished the bread she had saved for him. He swallowed it in one gulp.  
  
"Ah-hem." Glorfindel said, to announce his presence. Lizule gave Gloried one more pat on the neck and stepped away. The Elf Lord came in and bridled the horse, and then swung lightly up onto his back.  
  
"Where are your provisions?" She inquired. She knew it was at least a one- week journey to Mirkwood and he could not go without eating for that long. Especially when he had to cross the mountains.  
  
Glorfindel revealed a small leather pouch that was attached to his waist. Inside was a huge supply of lembas bread. On his back was his leather bag, full of Elvish lore and maps. He nodded at the Elf Maiden, nudged Gloried in the ribs, and they were gone. Through the stall and out the door, down the hard worn path, past the boundaries of Rivendell and into the world beyond.  
  
Lizule sighed and went to turn out the elder horses. Since Orion, Asfaloth, and Gloried were gone, she only had to concern herself with five other horses. One was the old jet-black stallion Morgul. He had been Gabriel's mount long ago, but now he was a feeble horse at the end of his line. It was only a matter of time until he passed on. She took him gently by the head and let him loose outside. He ambled off to a juicy patch of grass, laid down, and ate. He conserved whatever energy he could.  
  
The next one was a mare. She was a favorite of Lizule's, partly because of her beauty, but also because she had borne Legolas's coffin back to Mirkwood. She had pulled it all the way to the place he had been buried, which was next to Laurelin and Totholain in the valley. When Legolas had received an Elf Lord's funeral rites, the mare took part in the ceremony, even at the beginner's age of five. She had stood by Elrond when he had placed Totholain's sword back in its resting-place. The entire time at Mirkwood she had held her honor in the highest dignity. Now ten, she was still beautiful and proud, but she was wise beyond her years. She was counted among the elder horses because of this very fact.  
  
"Nimelen, my chosen one, how are you?" The gorgeous mare put her head over her stall door and neighed. She butted Lizule playfully with her head and then went back to the food she was eating. Nimelen's color was most unusual. Her entire body was blacker than darkness, but for a white star on her forehead and one white sock on her left hind foot. Her mane and tail were pure, silver white, the color of mithril. Her mane was longer than Apollo's had ever been. Her eyes were an ocean blue, her hooves strong and hard. Elrond had often said she was not all horse. There was some other magical creature in her.  
  
Lizule let the mare eat her grain and went to the remaining horses. Nimelen was a slow eater anyway. Once the other horses were turned out with Morgul, she went back to Nimelen and got her out of her stall. When she led the frisky horse into the delicate sunshine, she bucked and galloped off over the grass, dancing and plunging. Lizule watched her for some time and then headed back up to the Last Homely House, the sun following in her wake.  
  
TEN YEARS LATER  
  
"Hurry, Lizule! My father will leave us behind if we tarry any longer," Elladan said anxiously as he vaulted on to Loskal. Orion had died two years ago, and his new mount was still learning the ropes. Loskal pawed at the ground with one forefoot. He was nervous with all excitement about.  
  
"We have plenty of time. Lord Elrond would not leave without us, I assure you." She said. Lizule led Gloried out of his stall and put an emerald blanket over his back so she would be more comfortable. She then mounted up on to the stallion. Gloried whinnied, his brown eyes dancing.  
  
Elladan eyed the horse skeptically. "What's with him?"  
  
Lizule shrugged and ran her hand along the stallion's well-muscled neck. "He is excited, that's all. I believe he wants to go to the Grey Havens as much as I do. He is probably sensing my unrest."  
  
"You know, I have always wondered how that horse has lived so long. I can remember him as far back as my memory goes, bearing Totholain into battle. I am sure Totholain had him before I was born. That makes Gloried rather old, doesn't it? Old for an Elf horse, anyway. He should be dead by now."  
  
"Yes, but he isn't. Perhaps it is just something in him that keeps him alive and as frisky as Ainalad."  
  
"Perhaps. But enough talk. We must go to the courtyard and report our arrival. My father plans to leave soon."  
  
Lizule laughed. "Yes, I know."  
  
They headed up the hill and along the well-worn road to the courtyard. Even though they were still far away, Lizule could see a huge congregation of people. The last remaining Elves were leaving Middle-earth today. It was a big event. Sindarin and Noldor both had been accepted and were departing together. Mirkwood stood empty, its vast halls silent. Although Lizule had never gone back after Legolas's burial, she had always wished to see her two closest friends one last time. But it was too late for that now.  
  
Finarain, the Mirkwood Healer, rode up to the couple. "My Lady, I hardly recognized you. I mean, you look so great! How have you been?"  
  
Lizule quickly filled the healer in on the latest details. She stopped when Elrond rode into the middle of the group upon Ainalad. The young stallion was now fully grown and the prettiest thing Lizule had ever laid her eyes on. Elrond sat smiling, his eyes dancing with joy. The Elf Maiden didn't realize she was crying until she felt the wetness upon her cheeks. She had never seen the Master of Rivendell truly smile.  
  
"My people, today we depart for our last and final journey. Some can hardly wait. I know my son, Elladan, is among that group, aching for knowledge and for unknown lands. But others wish not to leave. In consideration of their feelings, if anyone wishes to stay behind, come forward and speak."  
  
It was silent for a while. Not even the horses dared to move. The wind whistled through the trees, bring down copper-colored leaves. Then a young, melodious voice spoke as a comely Elfling made her way next to Elrond's side.  
  
"I wish to remain here, my Lord."  
  
Lizule gasped. It couldn't be. Alqua could not stay! She was only twenty, still naïve and unlearned. Glorfindel loved her. He would not permit her to linger in Rivendell alone. She had been subject to harsh ridicule just ten years before, accused of being Gabriel's accomplice in the horrid act of killing Legolas. Only until recently was she able to prove herself innocent, and then she was released from the dark dungeons of Mirkwood. Glorfindel had stood by her side and had remained a truthful friend, if not lover. Lizule glanced over at him and saw his face was in complete shock.  
  
"I will not leave my beloved homeland, Lord Elrond." She fell to her knees in front of the mighty Elf Lord. Elrond nodded gravely while Ainalad watched her out of the corner of his eye. Her white hair shaded her face from view.  
  
"So be it, my child. But you can not remain here alone. Is there anyone or anything you wish to stay with you?"  
  
"My Lord, if I could have Nimelen, my heart would be merry. I know she is a kingly gift, so I would understand if you refuse to abide by my requests." She remained bent over, and never once looked up at Elrond as she told him her wishes. "And-and if my Lord Glorfindel would remain here, with me, I would be most grateful. He has loved me ever since I was born, and I have loved him in return. He means more to me than anything else."  
  
Lizule glanced over at Glorfindel again. His face was set in an almost angry stare, which only intensified his beauty. So he had loved Alqua all these years, even when he was proposing on marrying Lizule. The Elf Maiden decided that she would never be able to figure Glorfindel out.  
  
"Of course you can have Nimelen, my dear. But Glorfindel staying here is a different matter. You will have to ask him, not me," Elrond replied.  
  
Alqua raised her head at turned to look at Glorfindel. A heart-wrenching expression crossed her when she faced him. He just stared at her, out of shock or out of anger Lizule would never know.  
  
"Please, my Lord, I love Rivendell, but I love you more. I will go wherever you go, but my heart would sing if I could remain here- with you." A pleading look was in her eyes as she said the words, and her already pale face turned to the color of snow.  
  
Glorfindel seemed in no hurry to make up his mind. Asfaloth pawed beneath him, anxious for his master to come to a decision. The crowd of Elves watched him with anticipation.  
  
Finally he smiled, which broke up his irate glare. "Of course I will stay here."  
  
Alqua grinned and raced over towards him, tears streaming down her face. He encompassed her in a hug as all the Noldor and Sindarin Elves clapped. It was an extremely happy moment. Happy moments had been lost in Rivendell, and experiencing one made Lizule feel much younger than she had ever felt after Legolas's death.  
  
Elrond rode to the head of the crowd. "To Rivendell! And to the race of Men!" He cried. The Elves took up his call and their shouts filtered through the crowd.  
  
"I guess I am going to miss everything about Middle-earth," she told Elladan as the joined the lineup. 'It is such a magnificent place."  
  
Elladan leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. "Me too. But I can't wait to inquire Manwe about the Battle of Dagorland and the War of the Silmarils. I am positive he will be able to tell me everything."  
  
"You thirst for knowledge. Knowledge is not everything, my love."  
  
"Aye, but wisdom is."  
  
Lizule patted her stomach as Gloried took a step forward, following the horse in front of him. Soon they were out of the Rivendell courtyard, beyond the gates, and in the woods, walking along the never-ending trail towards the Grey Havens. It was then that Lizule was reminded of something.  
  
"Oh, Elladan, I have been meaning to tell you this, but amidst all the excitement and confusion I guess I just forgot." She blushed as he gazed at her searchingly. In order to put off his curiosity, she said,  
  
"Approximately how long have we been married?"  
  
Elladan blinked but answered indifferently, "Ten years."  
  
"Ah. A wonderful number. And after ten years of bliss, guess what happened?"  
  
The Rivendell Prince shrugged his shoulders, displaying his genuine confusion. Lizule smiled at his ignorance and took a deep breath.  
  
"I'm with child."  
  
For the Noldor and the Sindar Elves, it all worked out in the end. There had been a lot of suffering, death, and tears, but the immortals of the Fourth Age were leaving Middle-earth in the hands of men. The war against the Balrog had accomplished at least that much, if it can be called an "accomplishment."  
  
Several days later, when Middle-earth bid farewell to the Firstborn Children of Illuvatar, a single, white rose sprouted up from the soil above Legolas's vault. Years passed, and the rose grew and grew until it covered the graves of two Elves and one Maiar. Even though the spirits of Legolas, Laurelin, and Totholain were in the Halls of Mandos, their undying love for each other bloomed for a long time in the white rose, until centuries later a young man discovered it and gave it to his lover.  
  
THE END

**IN MEMORY OF: **Richard Harris, October 1st 1930 – October 25th 2002


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